Chapter: 29
Darren woke to a pitch-black room, as if he'd been yanked from tranquil sleep by a hand gripping his heart. As if an unnatural beat, rhythm forced his body alert, surging his nervous system into wakefulness. For a moment he lay there, splayed out on his stomach, head turned towards the blinking like of the alarm clock on the desk, stunned, blinking into the darkness. Darren didn't even remember falling asleep, there wasn't a whisper of an intermediary period of staring at the ceiling, or watching Livia slip off into sleep, or wrestling with unwanted thoughts or memories. He'd been out, like a light. For a moment, that was a blissful realization, the measured inkiness of the room, the humming silence courtesy of Livia's noise-cancelling spell, all the reason to slip back into a calm, peaceful sleep. Such a rare novelty for Darren, it seemed like a shame to waste it. But he stretched his arm out, reaching for Livia, wanting to pull her close knowing, that at least for that night, there was no risk of his usual thrashing in his sleep. But she wasn't there, the bed was empty, the bundle of sheets nested where she'd lay cold,
"Livia?" Darren called out, alarmed, squirming, shifting to get to his hands and knees, still cocooned under the blankets and duvet. The effort, to move his limbs, to shift his weight, to orient himself became alarmingly clear as he stilled, arms quaking under his shoulders, the rushing sensation carving through his head made his vision swim, the dim sight of the sheets he'd laid on flashing in and out of clarity. Darren sucked in a breath, feeling his heart race under his skin as his lungs expanded, the effort there to breathe to think, to move, blaringly difficult. Something was wrong.
Darren twisted, with more urgency now, trying to surge his way to his feet. His thoughts dancing between what happened with Constantine to the confrontation with Jennifer. Both had caught him irritatingly off guard and in a compromised position for one of the attacks, either could be the cause of his weakness now. The dagger Constantine used on him—Darren shuddered, whether from the memory or as the cold air of the bedroom hit his senses as he effortfully pulled himself to his feet…he couldn't tell. His mind locked on the feeling of its serrated blade shredding through his vocal cords, the taste of blood as it pooled in his mouth…the icy cold feeling of the dagger as it pierced his chest how it bloomed, growing and encasing him as if Darren were being dragged into hibernation…locked away in Cold Storage. The shame and humiliation…the fury…the fear that he would never wake up. Of being locked in his body, not dead but not alive. Aware but not. It was an adjacent sensation to being frozen though a deeper and deader version.
Darren stumbled, slumping to his knees as dizziness and a seeping heat spread over his shoulder blades—fever—Darren felt feverish as soon as he got free from the sheets the chill of the room burning away. His head slumped forward—exhaustion following the manifesting fever—eyes locking on the discolored floorboards that Livia didn't have time to clean properly magically. Stained with his blood, unconsciously Darren reached a hand up to his throat, running it where the scar from Constantine's dagger would be, the blade that killed him; Darren shook himself, shook his head trying to clear it, trying to shake himself out of this funk. Whatever this was.
Livia was gone. She could be in trouble. Everyone in the apartment could be in trouble if Jennifer thought to attack again, knowing Darren would be weaker from her act of Siphoning him. Darren threw himself between Peter and Jennifer, not only to protect the boy from whatever the witch had planned, but also so he could end her threat over Livia and her father. He'd never imagined Jennifer could Siphon him. Darren was immune to magic. Though the Bats, Livia and himself, were discovering that immune was a relative term. There were aspects of magic that could not touch him but also magic that could directly harm him…or indirectly harm him as Livia had proven by manipulating the air around him to snap his neck. Or using the pressure of air to shatter bones as Livia had with Malik. He hadn't thought of Siphoning as something that could harm him, he hadn't been thinking only acting on instinct. Acting on anger, fury, vengeance for what Jennifer and her cult had done to Livy.
Darren gripped the edge of the desk, using it as leverage to pull himself to his feet. Acting on impulse had cost him, the energy sapped from the encounter apparent as he struggled with himself. Feeling weaker even as he lugged his body across the floor, one hollow step at a time. The vacuuming sensation the Siphoning had as it took hold was alarming. Vividly Darren remembered how it was as if all the sound in the room disappeared. How it had been only him and a grinning Jennifer locked in a menacing embrace. He had her right there, her throat in his hand—he could have ended it. Snap her neck. Peter wouldn't have even saw the killing happen he was pulled tight in Livia's arms. But Darren couldn't move, it was as if his body seized up, right before going almost slack. A hollowness spread as Darren's energy, his strength, was sapped away. Pulled out of his body. Weakness spread like an infection in its place.
Weakness rippled through Darren presently, jarringly, as he slammed into the wall adjacent to the door leading out into the apartment's hallway, and next to the bathroom. Five feet made nearly impossible by just a touch. By someone grabbing a wrist. Unfathomable. Darren felt faint, his breathing uncertain, hitched. His chest heaving, the room spinning. His heart pounding in his ears, uneven, unnatural for him…racing, his pulse was racing under his skin. A Talon shouldn't feel like this, a Talon's pulse shouldn't flutter so loudly nor should his heart hammer so harshly. Thumping lumpily in his chest. It didn't feel right, nothing felt right. It hadn't passed, Darren hadn't shaken off the effects of the siphoning—was this permanent? Was this something a Talon couldn't recover from.
Darren flailed mentally, the panic, confusion and wariness already flooding his head intensifying. His gut twisted uncomfortably, nauseatingly. An icy feeling of dread billowing in his stomach. Something was wrong, something was wrongsomethingwaswrong. Darren backtracked—Livia, Peter and Dr. Branley not fading from mind but instead overshadowed by the menace of consequence—his hands scrabbling at the doorknob to the bathroom as he yanked the door open. Fear, panic and paranoia winning over as he collapsed to his knees on the tiled flooring. Heaving, panting, unsure of what his body needed or wanted to free itself from this endless loop of sensation.
The wooshing sound of a portal materializing in the bedroom beyond the closed bathroom door had Darren freezing. Momentarily distracted as he waited, ears perked, still feverish and fatigued, wondering if Constantine had come back to finish the job or if he'd discovered something about Klarion and wanted to exorcise Livia. Darren stayed crouched, firery backside flush against the cold porcelain of the shower and tub combo, tense and ready to pounce but uncertain if he could in the state he was in. A beat of silence, another then,
"Darren?" It was Livia's voice, though Darren remained silent, biting his tongue. He'd dealt with enough magic for one day, he wouldn't be fooled or tricked or lured into a false sense fo security for something that could be a lie, "Darren!" This time Livia sounded concerned, "I'm coming in," she warned. Darren geared to flinch into action, only to uncoil, wilting pathetically onto the tiled floor energy spent, as Livia—his love—truly stepped through the doorway. Worry written on her face as she took in his slumped form on the floor,
"Something's wrong," Darren warbled, he sounded out of it, his voice thready in his ears, "I feel, I feel weak, I-I dizzy, can't breathe…my heart…something's wrong with my heart," panic emboldened his incoherent mumbling as Livia rushed over to him. Pulling him into her arms, running a hand over his face, looking at his eyes to see if they'd changed into golden irises, pulling her hand back with shock at how hot Darren felt. Her frown providing little relief in that he was right—something was wrong,
"We need to get you to the cave," Livia murmured, pulling him close once more and wrapping her arms tenderly around him. The urge to sleep once more was too overpowering, but the sensation of the floor bottoming out from under him as they teleported startled him to wakefulness. The world rematerialized around them. A blinding flash of white light had Darren blinking into the suddenly darkened grimness of obsidian stone. They were in the Batcave.
Tim was seated at the batcomputer, transcribing fieldnotes from patrol that night. A routine well ingrained from his years as Robin, also a way to wind down and prevent details from getting blurry as time went on. While others, such as Damian or Dick preferred a more physical means of letting off steam and winding down after patrol, Tim's method felt like a good end to a night out of dealing with criminals in Gotham. Extra activity wound him up instead of calmed him down, and forgetting details had him up beyond their patrol hours trying to pinpoint what he missed or forgot. Some might not care or mind, but to Tim, case notes were significant. They made or break the case. Especially when they so meticulously worked to maintain chain of custody with the GCPD and they themselves couldn't necessarily testify.
Bruce and Barbara were still out, debriefing the commissioner on their night and brainstorming for the next night's patrol. They couldn't necessarily accurately anticipate what might be a problem area, but they could attempt to narrow their focus on different areas in the city based on the previous night's movements. Intel from reconnisance on mob bosses, henchmen working under big Arkham inmates and even petty crime can lessen the unpredictability of a night's patrol. Any point of predicability made their nights less chaotic. It was preferable to the alternative, often involving certain asylum inmates, though Tim wouldn't continue that line of thought lest he jinx them and really ruin their night. Even so, it seemed their night would be wrapped up pretty nicely. A relatively quiet night, which allowed Tim to gather more intel on a case he and Bruce were trying to close with the Commissioner, with minimal injuries,
"Have you heard from Darren?" Dick's voice at his right shoulder had
Tim jerked in surprise. He'd been so focused on his notes he hadn't heard, or seen Dick come over from the sparring floor where Damian now stood, scowling with a baton in hand,
"I thought he wasn't going out tonight?" Tim asked. They'd received a short, somewhat cryptic text message from Darren essentially saying that he couldn't go on patrol with them that night. But nothing further than that. It wasn't alarming exactly. There were nights when Darren didn't go out with them, recently it was because he'd been benched from patrol but occasionally it was a more personal reason why he couldn't go out. Tonight seemed to be one of those nights, he'd certainly been looking forward to patrol at dinner, so the text was a surprise even if it was understandable,
"He wasn't going out on patrol tonight. But Barbara got back to the penthouse and he wasn't there. Alfred said he's not in his room here,"
"Maybe he's with Livia?" Tim suggested, spinning his chair to face his brother, hands steepled under his chin,
"We figured he'd be back by now if he was…,"
"How likely is that when visiting his girlfriend?" Tim mused, unable to help the grin on his face,
"It's a school night," Dick stated, rolling his eyes at the insinuation,
"They go to the same school," Stephanie pointed out, walking over from the showers, toweling off her hair, already dressed to head home for the night,
"Why are none of you taking this seriously?" Dick sighed, exasperated,
"Because you're acting like a helicopter parent. Yeah sure, there's still the threat of the Court, and maybe the League of Assassins—still unclear on that honestly—but this is probably a totally normal and reasonable explanation," Stephanie interjected. Tim nodded his agreement, moving ot turn back to the computer screens when a loud whooshing noise had his ears popping as both Darren and Livia materialized in the Batcave a few feet away from the computers,
"See, he was with Livia, mystery solved," Tim stated, looking up at Dick who was still looking over, mildly surprised, at where Livia and Darren materialized,
"Oh uh—," Steph started, her expression turning worried, "He actually doesn't look too good," that had Dick hurrying over and Tim surging out of his seat as Livia turned to them, worry in her eyes,
"Help!" she cried, struggling to keep Darren upright as he slumped, seemingly dizzily, to the stone floor,
"What happened?" Dick asked, reaching them first. He pulled one of Darren's arms over his shoulder and hefted him up, turning them toward the medical area. Tim and Stephanie following on either side,
"We-uh-we had an encounter with…with Jennifer," Livia huffed, working to keep up with Dick's taller, longer and stronger frame,
"What!" Tim cried, "She's alive?"
"Apparently," Livia grimaced, her gold-green eyes crinkling with worry and fear. No one needed a reminder of what that woman had almost done to her with the help of the Siphoner cult, "She siphoned Darren…and well, we thought he was fine. Tired…okay more like exhausted quite literally passed the fuck out around thirty minutes after it happened but now…it seems a bit more serious than just exhaustion," They watched as Dick helped Darren onto a bed. Alfred was over a few minutes later, taking preliminary measures of his pulse, breathing, temperature everything,
"I-I can't breathe…something's wrong…dizzy, weak…I-I—," Darren mumbled, shifting unsteadily under Alfred's careful ministrations,
"You didn't react like this after being siphoned…maybe it's because he's not a magic user?" Tim mused, hurrying over to help Alfred,
"I don't know," Livia sighed, "But I thought she drew on his energy instead of a magical reserve as she would for a magic-user like me. But there is the factor that he's an Anchor too…that might've given her an edge that we're not aware of,"
"He does look paler than usual," Stephanie mused,
"And he's hot…like really hot for him," Dick muttered, hovering nervously as Alfred tried to listen to Darren's heart, "Dare, it's Alfred, you can let him work," Darren didn't seem to hear, squirming around on the bed, his breathing erratic,
"We ah…did have an encounter with Constantine and Zatanna too,"
"What do you mean by 'encounter?'" that got Darren's attention,
"I'm going to kill the bastard," he seethed, jerking upright, the hazy delirium in his blue-grey eyes shifting to pure clear hatred,
"Okay, whoa, not right now," Tim muttered, putting a hand on his shoulder to pull him back but just as he found the energy to surge upright in righteous fury he wilted, grimacing as he tried to stay conscious, he fell back against the pillows once more. It was unclear if it was the fever, the exhaustion, or the dizziness that was pulling him back to the brink,
"Livia, what happened?" Tim demanded, trying to keep Darren on the bed as he slumped to the side,
"Constantine slit his throat," Livia blurted, looking on her expression lost, "He used some weird magical knife…I-I don't know what it was. I had to pull it out myself to revive him,"
"Why would he do that?" Dick asked incredulously but fury flickered dangerously across his face though he hid it well. Tim looked to Livia expectantly, as Alfred attempted to flash a penlight in Darren's eyes to see how they reacted—if they'd react as they normally did for Darren who with his good night vision had a touch of tapetum lucidum as well as make sure the pupils reacted appropriately to light,
"I guess they thought if they got the jump on me they could see if Klarion was truly gone or if there was a trace of him left,"
"What!? Oh my god, are you okay?" Stephanie asked, reaching out to put an arm around Livia, which she greatly took. Pulling her friend into a hug,
"I'm fine…I'm honestly more shaken up about Jennifer—she threatened my dad and my brother. I had to tell Peter the truth, I couldn't get around it anymore,"
"What did she want?" Dick asked, his tone softer, empathy in his eyes,
"She wanted to know how I did it," Livia stated flatly, "How I killed all the Siphoners,"
"Wow, I guess since she—survived—we know for sure what happened," Stephanie said softly, a grim expression on her face,
"You survived," that came from Darren and all heads turned to him. He sounded lucid, if not a bit breathless, and sweat dotted his brow as the miraculous fever raged through him, "That's what matters. Not what happened to them, that you lived. You made it out."
"I made it out," Livia repeated, firmly, nodding as if she needed the physical affirmation too, "Constantine didn't find anything anyway…which is surprising,"
"Why is it surprising…Klarion's gone," Tim stated. Livia blinked, as if stunned by that revelation,
"What do you mean?" Livia said, "We told you guys—all of you—the truth…," Livia trailed off, seeing she was getting blank looks. Darren looked bemused, glancing at everyone as well, shock slowly slipped onto his face too as if Tim had stated a taboo,
"Oh…oh my god," Livia gasped, curling in on herself, "He got to you guys,"
"What—what do you mean Livia? Who got to us?" Dick asked, though he looked wary as if he already knew the answer. Tim felt he did, a prickling sensation trailing down his back an unnerving sensation of deja vu rippling across his memory,
"Klarion," Livia rasped, "He's back…I don't think he's ever left. Darren and I, we realized this and we told you guys I swear we did." Silence encased the small crowd in the medical area. Uncertainty and fear rippled across its occupants only for the pause to be interrupted by Darren squirming, patting at his chest panting with fear or shock Tim couldn't tell,
"My heart…something's wrong…the rhythm the beat something, it doesn't feel right," the fear in his voice was clear and hinging on hysterical,
"Okay one thing at a time, we help Darren then get to the bottom of what happened before all of this," Dick stated, "And after…we figure out a way to prevent everything that happened tonight from happening again." Dick gestured broadly with one hand, the other he used to keep Darren upright,
"His pulse is rather fast," Alfred admitted, once again checking Darren's pulse,
"Could this be a panic attack?" Tim questioned, earning a glare from Darren, "Don't look at me like that…you never know!"
"It might be, however, that doesn't explain the fever. I think this will pass, you are relatively fine considering…I think rest and plenty of fluids will sort this out. He lost a lot of blood from Constantine's attack, we should try to replenish that and any fluids. We at least need to try for 24 hours before jumping to worst-case scenarios,"
"If his fever gets any higher though we might need to try a cold bath," Tim mused,
"No, I'm not doing that again," Darren hissed, squirming as Alfred tried to get an IV in his arm as if attempting to roll away,
"Darren, do not make me sit on you again," Dick breathed in his ear, "you need the fluids and the blood transfusion."
Tim stumbled away, letting Dick and Alfred coax Darren into calming down enough to let Alfred set up the transfusions and the IV. Instead of assisting—Dick was more help at the moment than he'd be—Tim hurried over to Livia, who was standing a few feet away, head in hands while Stephanie spoke claiming and comforting words at her ear,
"You said Constantine slit his throat?" he asked,
"Very helpful Tim," Stephanie muttered, shooting him a look,
"It's fine Steph…honestly that was weirdly the most normal if not infuriating part of the night. Yes, he did," Livia said, lifting her head which was wet with silent tears. She wiped them away with Steph's arm around her for comfort,
"Wasn't Constantine vying for a pint of Darren's blood not too long ago?"
"What are you getting at?" Steph mused, her brown eyes narrowing in thought, following the thread Tim was pulling at,
"There wasn't enough blood on the floor when I woke up from their spell for a slit throat," Livia muttered, "I thought it had just dried or got somehow absorbed into the woodwork…but now that you mention it, I'm not so sure,"
"I think you and I should pay Constantine a visit," Tim stated, irritation at the spellcaster clouding his thoughts—so much for a calm and easy night,
"Another visit from me," Livia stated, pulling out a chain with a new pendant, "Constantine figured out how to close the untethered spell,"
"How convenient," Tim retorted,
"A consolation present for fucking with you or something to distract you from the fact that he stole your boyfriend's blood," Stephanie sighed,
"Hard to say which one," Livia muttered,
"God I sometimes wish we had normal problems," another sigh from Steph as she ran a hand through her still shower-damp hair,
"Only one way to find out,"
"You go, I'll hold down the fort here with Dick and Alfred. And fill in Bruce when he gets back," Steph stated, Tim nodded his thanks and took the hand Livia held out to him. With a flash of almost blinding light, whooshing phantom wind, and a poof of black matter smoke, they disappeared.
Livia was not pleased to have to shuttle herself over to the House of Mystery a second time that night. But desperate times called for desperate measures, especially after what happened that evening with Jennifer. It was too much, all of it…Livia felt a prickle of the emotions that overwhelmed her in the Cave after discovering that Klarion had used her to manipulate her friends' minds. The same memory spell she considered using on her brother was used against her and the Bats, the only people who could protect her from Klarion. Although it wasn't her who did it, that used the spell, Livia couldn't help but feel ashamed for what she'd done. The violation she'd wrought on the people she cared about. In truth, she had meddled with their minds with her compulsion, but it was more of a soothing distraction to get them to wear protective bracelets than pushing into one's mind to pull a memory from it. She was upset as well, at the lack of control she had over herself. No way to know where she had been, or who she had been with at any given time. This wasn't like when Klarion was manipulating time, manipulating her, before the Merging Ritual. Then it was clear something was off, something was happening. The days were off, Livia's timing was off, and she was half a step behind the rest of the world. This time, currently, there was nothing to indicate that something had happened. This wasn't a blackout like before, this was a blink. There was no tell. The only person who could even recognize Klarion was Darren. And that was only because he was a Talon.
Or…or was it because Darren was an Anchor? Livia had never considered which was the cause of Darren seeing the crimson eyes of the demon. Nor did she wonder whether it was Darren being a Talon that protected him from magic or the fact that he had a foothold in magic himself as an Anchor. In truth it was incomplete protection from magic, certain things still affected him or could be made to harm him magically. Was that because of the Electrum or the Mirakuru? The only other Talons affected by magic were the ones Livia had turned to dust, the Owl Scientist as well crumbled under Livia's destructive magic. But that was an ability unique to Livia's family. It was unnatural in the magical world. Malik had been harmed by Livia's magic as well, though she had manipulated the air around him to crush his bones. Were all Talons Anchors? Or was Darren an outlier? Was it the offset of the Mirakuru that made him uniquely an Anchor? Livia didn't know, and a part of her felt she would never know, or understand the complexities of Talons and Magic. It was everchanging, always evolving,
"Constantine must have changed the wards," Livia said, pulling herself from her trapezing thoughts, "So I couldn't get us directly to his study. We'll have to wander around a bit," They'd landed in the entranceway of the House of Mystery. The lights were out and the room was cast in eerie shadows,
"That's uh…not going to turn into another Baudelaire Castle escapade will it?" Tim asked, looking around worriedly,
"Oh no, it shouldn't. The House is too used to me…used to us…at this point. A change in protection wards won't mess with the House's own sentience,"
"Ah yes…the house is sentient. Right."
"It's not like this is the first time you've been here," Livia laughed, despite the tense mood, and reason for their arrival,
"Yeah, but I didn't see it do any spooky sentient things, while I was here," Tim shrugged, jerking with surprise as a door opened up on their left. Livia followed his startled gaze,
"Is this the right way to go or did you just want the comedic timing?" Occasionally it felt silly to address the House, but not in this moment. Livia needed its guidance. While the House wouldn't mess with them, it was still a magician's house. It was bigger on the inside, they could be wandering for hours just trying to find Constantine.
The door creaked towards being closed, stopping halfway before opening wide again, then repeating the motion twice more before stopping completely open. The gesture like the beckoning hand of a friend,
"The right way it is," Livia murmured, stepping through the door and into an elaborate dining room that Livia knew Constantine didn't use. They continued on like this for a few minutes. Wandering through various rooms, looking for doors flying open, a guiding array of flapping hinges their only means of navigating the House of Mystery,
"I didn't say it before, but are you okay? You went through a lot tonight," Tim asked, breaking the silence between them throughout the first series of rooms. They'd gone from dining room to billiards room to guest bedroom upstairs somehow, to the kitchen and Livia had stretched out a hand to one of the cabinet doors curious as to whether Constantine actually kept them stocked,
"I'm better than I was before," Livia sighed, hand dropping back to her side as the swinging door—which one would assume led to the dining room—swung back and forth lightly. Calling them onwards once more, "How are you? You're the one who just discovered you're mind was manipulated to forget a whole conversation by a demon…by me," it was the closest Livia had come to calling herself a demon. But that's what it was, what she had done, wasn't it? Demonic,
"That wasn't you," Tim said, "You would never use magic to hurt the people you care about,"
"I snapped Darren's neck," Livia pointed out, floating through the swinging door and into a heavily stocked wine cellar,
"You did that to save him from making a huge and dangerous and desperate mistake," Tim gently retorted, "And you swore to never do it again. Literally created a contract for it. Most people wouldn't do that for anybody, even someone they love,"
"Darren told you about that?" Livia asked amused as they ascended the wine cellar's staircase, emerging in a first-floor hallway. A light flickered off to their right, calling to them,
"I saw the Word As Bond tattoo. I was curious," Tim chuckled at the memory, "He was, I don't know if ecstatic is the right word—,"
"—perhaps spellbound is more appropriate," Livia cut in, unable to help herself with the double entendre,
"Hah, maybe…but he was happy that someone would bend over backward for him, for once. That someone would see he was upset and work to change or fix whatever they could to win his trust back. Not use him or blackmail him or target him for that insecurity—the fear of someone having that much control over him. Especially because of what—," Tim cut himself off, his expression darkening, his royal blue eyes hardening into an icy fury. Livia knew the direction he was going,
"Especially because of what Sophie has done," Livia continued where Tim had stopped, unable to utter that bitch's name, her own voice hardened with menace,
"Yes. Her…William…everyone in the Nest," Tim shook his head, disgust on his face,
"She's gone. William's gone. They can't hurt him anymore," Livia said, reassuring herself as well,
"The Court though…we're nowhere closer to dismantling it and I hate to say it, that blackmail's not going to hold forever. Even with the monumental amount of intel we got on them and their operations. They won't stay idle forever. They're already trying to push the bounds. Eventually either we'll need to stay true to our word and use the flash drive if they violate the terms or be called out for playing wolf…nothing would hold them back at that point. No point in being reined in if there's no actual consequence,"
"And Darren would be in danger again," Livia sighed, worrying her new necklace at the thought. Though she dropped the pendant as the last door—with a glimmer of light peeking out under the door—sighed open, the study at last with its familiar fireplace, giant round table, desk, and bookshelves. Another annoyingly familiar man currently stood in front of said bookshelf, perusing the array of tomes, his trench coat covered back to them,
"I thought I said to disintegrate any unwanted visitors House," Constantine drawled, a note of irritation in his tone, "I've had enough of them for tonight,"
"Seems the house didn't get the memo," Livia muttered, crossing her arms. Constantine spun lightly on his heels, eyeing the duo that still stood in the doorframe,
"What, did my craftsmanship not pass inspection?" Constantine quipped, raising a light eyebrow a condescending grin on his face,
"We're here to discuss your other craftsmanship," Livia monotoned,
"No one likes a tattle," Constantine sighed, his hand slipping into his pocket. Livia tensed and Tim's hand went to his belt, wrapping around the metal edge of a batarang. They only relaxed when the magician pulled out his usual pack of cigarettes, "Is Zee going to get a talking to as well or is this treatment only for me?" he mouthed around the stick, eyeing Tim, his expression dark but unreadable,
"Trust me you got the better end of the deal, I'm sure Zatanna is dealing with Batman. Not me,"
"Humph," Constantine shrugged, nonchalant, uncaring. It sent waves of irritation through Livia, simmering viciously under her skin,
"Did you know they were attacked again, after you and Zatanna left?" Tim demanded, his voice sharp, "By Jennifer." That got Constantine's attention, "Darren got Siphoned…I bet you always wondered if a Talon could be affected by a Siphoner. He's in the medbay at the Cave right now, exhausted, delirious, and feverish," Livia frowned uncertain of this approach-where was Tim going with this-though she remained silent, watching passively as Tim took a step forward into the room. Constantine stayed where he was, eyes wide, almost mesmerized as Tim went on his voice growing darker, deeper, demanding.
"The timing of that second attack is just a little too convenient,"
"You can't possibly think I-," Constantine started, but Tim went on,
"And you had the necklace ready, perfectly prepared to heal the untethered spell. After we'd been researching for weeks how to close an untethered spell, you just came up with the solution right when you needed to be on our good side,"
"Trust me I don't care what side I am on with you guys,"
"Then why give up the necklace? Guilt?" Another step forward, and this time Livia followed suit, both of them making small progress toward the large round table in the center of the room, the Aemula reflecting the roaring fire at its center,
"I said I would help as I could," Constantine hissed, he hadn't even lit the cigarette still dangling in his mouth, "I was merely doing as I promised,"
"Even after you blackmailed Livy? You're not still vying for Darren's blood? I mean, you had ample opportunity and an entire secondary attack to plead innocent with…especially if anything had happened to Livia or Darren, or both of them because of that attack by Jennifer," Livia's shocked expression mirrored Constantine's, though the latter let out a scoffing laugh,
"Is that what you're building to…that is what you think-?" he broke off, his eyes narrowing as he stretched out a hand. A drawer of the hulking desk slid open,
"Oh no you don't!" Livia cried, reaching out a hand of her own, lassoing Constatnine's arms to his side,
"Oh for the love of…take out what's in the desk. Dammit, you're pulling too tight lessen up," Constantine squirmed in Livia's hold, she eased off a sliver, still too antsy from his ambush to fully trust that he wouldn't break free and finish whatever job he had tried to start. Curiosity at what he and Zatanna found in her mind wormed its way to the forefront of Livia's thoughts. Whatever they found didn't implicate Klarion as walking around in her body and didn't warrant an exorcism…but what did they actually find still fascinated her,
"It's just a picture," Tim mused, pulling the wooden frame out for Livia to see. She meandered closer, careful to keep Constantine contained. The photo was of a young girl, probably eight or nine with dark skin, deep brown eyes and curly black hair pulled back into two pigtails,
"What is this?" Livia asked, confused,
"I don't know what happened after we left tonight, if you ever believe anything coming out of my mouth believe that. As for the picture, her name is Astra," Constantine said, his voice wavering slightly at the name, "That's who I've been so adversely petitioning some of your Talon's blood for. She's trapped in hell,"
"What?" Livia gasped, glancing back down at the photo, at the adorable little girl horrified at both the realization that hell existed and that this small child was somehow trapped there,
"When I was younger…less experienced. I thought I could help her, that I could save her. Instead, I sent her to that infernal place. Eternally damned, and I've been trying to right that wrong ever since,"
"How long has it been?" Tim asked softly, his expression and voice less of the menacing Bat,
"Ten years," cam Constantine's hoarse whisper,
"Jesus," Livia whimpered, "
"Certainly not him love, quite the opposite actually,"
"You thought Darren's blood as an anchor could be used to barter her out? Or assist with a spell that could free her?" Livia asked as she slowly released him from her telekinetic hold, ignoring his grim joke,
"Something like that,"
"I…suppose…we could spare a pint we have in storage," Tim mused, looking over at Livia for affirmation,
"With an added Word as Bond stating you won't try and enslave or control Darren with it," Livia stated, Tim nodded,
"Nice add…and with Darren's consent. I don't think he'd say no to freeing a kid from hell,"
"If it works," Constantine sighed,
"Right…if it works," Tim agreed,
"I'd say sorry for busting in here verbal and magical guns ablazing, but I think we're even," Livia stated, crossing her arms as she and Tim headed towards the exit,
"I guess this will make our next lesson a bit awkward," Constantine stated with a sly and almost hopeful smile, as if he knew the next bit that was going to come out of Livia's mouth,
"I think our lessons are over,"
"You'll need a teacher, especially if the magical community is cluing in on the fact that there's a Baudelaire witch and a new Embodiment of Chaos centered around Gotham,"
"I think I'll take my chances with whatever magic that destroyed Jennifer's cultists," Livia muttered, "If I need exorcism or hell expertise I'll be sure to call,"
"You're making a mistake," Constantine insisted,
"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you blackmailed me and slit my boyfriend's throat," Livia spat, irritation making the fire in the fireplace soar,
"Suit yourself. Don't come crying to me when that backfires. Magic you can't control will be your undoing." With Constantine's cryptic last words, Tim and Livia stepped out into the hall, instantly arriving at the foyer leading to the front door,
"Guess we've overstayed our welcome," Livia said drolly,
"As glad as I am that Constantine didn't mastermind all of this, but if Constantine didn't steal the blood while you were unconscious…who did?"
"Was it even stolen? Or did it just, absorb into the woodwork like I thought initially,"
"I-ugh-I don't know. This feels like a wild goose chase. Perhaps you're right," Tim sighed, "Let's just get back to the Cave and see how Darren's doing. Do you want to stay with us tonight?"
"As much as I want to…I need to make sure my dad and Peter are okay." Livia stated grimly,
"Right. Of course. We're here if you need us, if you need any help explaining anything to them or covering things up…we're good for both,"
"I know. Thanks. Let's just get home and to bed. I'm exhausted and I wasn't even siphoned," Livia grimaced as the joke, but Tim still laughed and took her outstretched hand. In a flash of black matter smoke, they were in the Cave and Livia after seeing Darren fast asleep with monitors beeping normally, collapsed into her bed upon teleportation landing.
"What were you thinking?" Bruce didn't try to disguise the biting anger in his voice as he strode across the metal paneling that lined the floors of the Watchtower. Zatanna turned from the conversation she was having with two of her trainees gesturing for them to leave before fully facing Bruce as he at last arrived-stopping a few feet from her; arms loose at his sides, though his unwavering glare still explicitly present. She watched the students leave, concerned and curious expressions flashing on each of their faces as they looked back over their shoulders clearly tempted to stay eager for some insight on the drama that might unfold between their magical instructor and the ever-infamous Dark Knight. However, with a look from Zatanna, they scurried out of the room, the door swishing shut a moment later the silence that remained in the room almost buzzing in Bruce's ears. The room, now emptied of its prior occupants-a few others milling about chatting over coffees or reports had also made themselves scarce. Though perhaps a tiring facade to maintain, Bruce was glad of his reputation as the cold and crass vigilante. It cleared rooms and gave him some peace and quiet when warranted.
Zatanna however, remained unamused by the clearing of the room. She crossed her arms, expression guarded and jaw set,
"Wow thank you for such a warm 'hello, welcome back to Earth Zatanna!'" she crowed callously. Batman remained silent, letting it carry the tone, the direction, of the conversation. Zatanna eventually let out a sigh,
"I can see how it might have seemed Bruce, but no lasting harm was intended and it was necessary. We needed to see how Klarion and Livia's Merging might have affected her!"
"I won't argue regarding the necessity of the actions considering what I currently know of Livia's situation, however, I will oppose the implication that no lasting harm was intended. You ambushed children. You incapacitated one and made her watch as you let Constantine slit her boyfriend's throat and impale him with a magical object-one she had no knowledge of or the effect it would have on him. He might be a Talon but some magics do still work on him."
"We didn't anticipate him being there," Zatanna stated shortly, her eyes narrowing at the implied damage their actions could have caused,
"And yet Constantine brought the dagger. He was prepared for Darren, so either you did think he would be there or there were ulterior motives you did not consider in allying yourself with Constantine."
Tim had mentioned the blood concern, and while now they were willing to provide Constantine his so sought-after Anchor blood considering the circumstances surrounding the magician's need for it, the lack of blood upon Livia regaining consciousness was concerning. It nagged at Bruce, it was too specific and relevant to Darren as a Talon and Anchor for it to be mere coincidence. He needed to see if Zatanna had any desire for an Anchor's blood as well. While the performing magician did not have as much of a nefarious history as Constantine might, she still acted impulsively at times as she had with the initial attack on Darren and Livia…perhaps it bled into taking the blood of an Anchor for herself as well. If Constantine provided the possibility for it to be taken without implicating herself, why wouldn't she jump at the chance? It was valuable and useful, and she had been wary of Darren's inclusion to the Bats and vigilantism and distrustful of the supernatural abilities his resurrection as a Talon manifested as well as his upbringing. She wouldn't risk the world, magical or not, she'd have any contingency should could think of in her back pocket-including the ability to control someone potentially dangerous with their blood. Zatanna was a kind person, she was a good person, Bruce knew this, however, her recklessness often won her over,
"How would he have reacted if we'd continued with the spell without incapacitating him? Can you guarantee that he wouldn't have killed us if he could in that moment?" Zatanna demanded,
"From my understanding, Darren was well in hand prior to the start of the spell,"
"A spell that required both of us, Constantine couldn't assist and keep him immobile at the same time," Zatanna shot back,
"A snapped neck would have sufficed, it could be done magically and it's known for him to recover from something like that without any ill side-effects. Livia's done it herself," Bruce monotoned, "What you enabled, was gross overkill. The dagger was untested and unknown, anything could have happened to him,"
"I won't disagree with that," Zatanna admitted, her voice growing hoarse as if tightened from emotion, "however we didn't know how long a…snapped neck…would last, or how long it would take us to complete the spell. The dagger gave us that time,"
"And yet, you just left them there. Forced to deal with the aftermath on their own. No warning to us. No explanation other than it was necessary to understand Klarion's potential control over Livia,"
"Do you really think either of them would be okay waking to us hovering over them? After what we did?"
"I think that realization tells you all you need to know of this endeavor you and Constantine concocted. Add to the fact that they are children. And add on the aftermath,"
"The aftermath?"
"They were both frightened and weakened, Darren especially. With the amount of threats against Darren's life, even with our carefully maintained control over the Court of Owls, you left him vulnerable. Dying like that takes energy to come back and heal from, on top of that it takes the body time to restore that amount of bloodloss…even for Talons," Darren might protest as being described as frightened, but Bruce needed Zatanna to see the fallacy in this encounter. It could have gone worse,
"Doesn't he heal fast," Zatanna questioned. Though still defensive of her actions, Bruce could see the uncertainty start to creep in,
"The dagger impacted something. He wasn't able to heal until it was removed…and Livia had to remove it so he could come back,"
"That's-that was not our, my, intention,"
"Perhaps not, but you did leave them in a vulnerable and weakened state. Worse still, they were attacked by Jennifer…the Siphoner Cultist who left that untethered spell-that brand-on Livia's shoulder,"
"What?" that was clearly news to Zatanna, the color drained from her face, "Is she-?"
"-Livia is fine physically. Her father, not so much, her brother is traumatized from the encounter and now knows that Livia is a spellcaster, and Darren, he was siphoned by Jennifer when he interfered, trying to protect Livia's brother from being used as a pawn in the whole debacle. The effects from the dagger, bloodless, and coming back from death earlier exacerbated the effect of the siphoning. He's been asleep for," Bruce paused in his tirade to glance at the clock, "almost nineteen hours since the attack to heal from it all."
Zatanna was silent, processing it all as she slowly sat back on the arm of a nearby chair,
"We…we couldn't have anticipated that happening. We couldn't have known,"
"And yet it happened. A little too perfectly timed," another point Tim mentioned about the incident,
"You can't think I purposefully left so that-that Siphoner could attack them!" Zatanna gasped, aghast at the accusation. Hurt and anger flickering across her face,
"You willingly attacked them yourself so I don't know what to think Zatana,"
"I didn't…I agreed to this plan solely to learn if there was anything suspicious about the aftermath of the Merging Ritual. I regret the aggressiveness, and the use of that horrible dagger-that was not my doing and I know I could have stopped it I should have, I was too focused on Klarion; you know he's my blindspot-but I wouldn't subject them to something like that!" Zatanna dropped her head to her hands, shaking it dejectedly. Bruce was not moved by the display of distress. His own concern for Livia and Darren, his grandson essentially, overruled anything symbolic of sympathy.
"Perhaps not purposefully, however, this was the consequence of your interference. I may not understand magic as clearly as I wish to, however Darren is my family…do not go after him like that again. Nor with Livia again. From now on if you want to interact with them…even to look at them…you do it through me. Understood?" Slowly, Zatanna raised her head, emotions scrolling across her face, pain, guilt, shame, shock, it was all there and Bruce appreciated the impact it had…maybe this would quell that impulsive side of Zatanna…she was young but not young enough that this immaturity could continue,
"Understood," she said firmly, if not a bit tearfully. Silence echoed loudly between them. Stretching uncomfortably-it wouldn't be this way forever. They were friends as well as colleagues on the League, they would find their way back there again. However, the rift no matter how temporary was quite the chasam at the moment though Bruce knew he would have to break it, if only to get the answer to another concerning discovery from that night,
"What did you find?"
"What?" Zatanna asked, her voice sharp and confused,
"The spell…what did you learn," Zatanna let out a scoff,
"Only you would give a lecture and then ask for information,"
"I'm a father, it comes with the territory," she didn't laugh at the mild joke, not that Bruce particularly cared,
"Only one word…I don't know the language or meaning…I'm looking into it and I was going to share with you everything that happened I swear I was,"
"What was it," Bruce asked, trying not to sound impatient,
"'Riryia.' He…through her…just said it over and over and over again." Not the answer Bruce expected or hoped. He had his own avenues to visit to discover the meaning of the word. He didn't mention the truth of Klarion overtaking Livia's body, she had practically begged to keep that information from Zatanna and Constantine. Afraid of the potential exorcism as a consequence. To be honest Bruce didn't trust what they'd do with that information himself. It would remain within the family for now. They knew the demon could manipulate their memories, it wouldn't happen again. And now they new the word Riryia meant something significant to Klarion. They could use that.
"Thank you." Was all Bruce said as he walked out. Leaving Zatanna to the realization of what her discovery cost both Darren and Livia.
A/N: I am laaaateee. Sorry! I've been under the weather and completely blanked. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Explanation TBD I'm too tired to think things through atm.
As always REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!