Chapter Text
What a tragedy, Timothy found himself thinking.
Red Hood was Jason, somehow back from the dead. He returned full of resentment, a vengeful spirit that had decided to hurt his own family because they had not avenged him.
He was an enemy, and the duke had decided to treat him as such.
This doesn't change anything, Timothy. Red Hood must be brought to justice.
The duke was a liar.
In his own words he upheld his ideals of unyielding justice, but beneath him he was still a grieving father who longed to have his son back, no matter the cost.
If Jason had surrendered, what would the duke have done? Would he bring him home? Would he exorcise him? Would he punish him?
There was no answer to that question, and that was the real tragedy.
(The Shadow of Gotham, vol. 5, Red Hood, pp. 500)
Fire was everywhere. Half-burnt corpses lay sprawled on the ground, while the fire slowly increased. Bruce felt his eyes stinging. There was no way Jason was still alive, not after an explosion like that.
But he couldn't give up without even trying to save his son. If he loses Jason too, he didn't know what he could become.
He stepped forward, braving the heat of the flames, regardless of the pain. He only wanted to find his kid.
When he found him, however, it was already too late.
“Jason!”
“Jason!”
“Hey, old man. Take it easy. I am here."
Jason was next to him. There where also Dick and Alfred. Leslie remained on the doorstep, ready to intervene at any moment.
Bruce looked around frantically: he was at the manor, in his room, everyone was safe... so why did he see fire everywhere?
He couldn't look at Jason. If he had done so, he would have seen his son's swollen face, his burnt flesh, his empty pupils.
If he had looked at him, he would have seen a dead body.
“Bruce, what's going on?” Dick asked, confused.
Bruce couldn't answer. He wasn't capable of it.
Leslie approached. She moved Jason over, and asked, "Bruce, what do you see?"
"Fire."
"Fire?"
“It's everywhere…I got there late…”
“Late for what?”
“To save him. He's gone, it's my fault... I lost him..."
“Who have you lost, Bruce?” she asked softly.
Bruce didn't answer. Leslie asked him again, but he refused to talk. Saying it would make it real, and he couldn't bear the thought of it being real.
“Is this about Alfred?”
He shook his head. Leslie then asked, “Is this one of the boys?”
He stiffened. Dick and Jason noticed. Jason said, “We're here. Nobody died.”
"It was just a dream."
They couldn't understand. It wasn't just a dream. It was too real. The fire... the fire was no longer there.
Bruce risked raising his head: Dick and Jason were fine. There were no traces of wounds, blood or other injuries.
Everything was as it should be.
He croaked, "It wasn't a dream."
“And what was it? An illusion? Those don't work on you, old man.”
“No, Jay…it was…I can't explain…”
The teenager bit his lip, looking thoughtful. Dick was the first to speak, “We should all rest. It was a tough night..."
“These have been tough days, young master. We need a break.”
“And the boy?” Jason asked.
Bruce blinked, “What boy?”
“The one who was with you in the cell. Have you already forgotten?”
He couldn't forget about the child. Not only for the shared imprisonment, but for another, very specific reason: he had been able to destroy the chains that kept Bruce bound.
He didn't know what kind of magic he possessed, but there was no doubt that he must be powerful. And, most importantly, Bruce didn't annul it.
"He is here?"
“Where else could he be? – Jason asked him sarcastically – We certainly wouldn't have brought him back to Drake. “
“Drake?”
"He's his son," Dick explained, looking exhausted.
Bruce frowned, “Drake has no children.”
“There's a whole ass kid sleeping in a room here who tells otherwise,” Jason retorted.
“We stayed at Drake Manor,” Dick revealed, crossing his arms over his chest. – There was only one housekeeper there. “
“Just a housekeeper?”
"Yeah, she was tasked with looking after Timothy… and slowly poisoning him.”
“What?!”
Leslie glared at her eldest, “Timothy's life is not in danger. His magic saved him.”
“A magic that allows one to heal himself? I heard about it before..."
“It's very rare – the doctor specified. – Even rarer is the speed with which his cells are regenerating. I've never seen anything like this before.”
It couldn't have been a small thing, even if Leslie said so: she had seen so many things over the years, first helping his father and then Bruce, that it had become impossible for her to be surprised.
“We will have to investigate, find Lord Drake…”
Leslie interrupted, “What you all need to do is sleep, try to rest, and have me visit you.”
"Everyone?" Jason complained.
“Don't think I forgot about your arm.”
Bruce was alarmed, “What happened to Jason's arm?”
“You'll talk about it later. After all of you have rested.”
"But…"
The woman's glare killed any protest in the bud. She ushered everyone out of the room, and turned to the duke, “Do you want a sedative to put you back to sleep?”
"No, please. If I were to see him again…I might go crazy if I couldn't wake up.”
She understood. She turned to Alfred, “You stay with him. I will think of the others."
“Shouldn't you be resting too?”
"I'm not the one who was held captive, Bruce," Leslie reminded him.
“I wasn't treated badly. My captor… he was fair,” he admitted. It was strange for a Talon, although he supposed he was obeying the orders of the court. But why waiting? Why not take him to his masters immediately? And above all, why had he brought the child?
Who was he really? Why had Lord Drake hidden his heir presumptive for so long?
Leslie patted his head lightly, “Stop thinking with that big head of yours. Rest, or at least try. Later you will focus on whatever mystery is still keeping you awake."
“But Leslie…”
“Did I stutter?”
Look at him, the powerful Duke Wayne, the Shadow who terrorized magical and non-magical criminals, was scolded like a little boy.
Leslie was so terrifying, thank you very much.
At fide, he gave in to his requests, and lay down again. When he closed his eyes, he feared he was in the middle of the fire again.
But all that greeted her was the darkness of a dreamless sleep.
The blood was everywhere. Pieces of dismembered bodies piled up on the floor. A man in an owl mask sat on the ground, one leg missing, a trickle of blood running down his chin.
In front of him, there was a being that shouldn't be in this world.
“Ra’s al Ghoul…you should be stuck in Hell…”
The man looked at him, grinning feral, “There are benefits when the gates between realms are opened. I too can make it to this world…though not completely. I had to possess the body of a useless human in order to kill you all.”
“W-why?”
“You know well why. I don't like people who threaten the things I've set my sights on."
The man gasped, “You can't have him. His power… ”
“His power is what I need to invade this world.”
“His existence… is blasphemous!”
The smile he smiled became wider, “Isn't it wonderful? Who better to serve my plans than a blasphemous existence?”
"You…"
He didn't let him finish: he beheaded him.
Ra's looked around. There was no one alive anymore.
"What a pity. It's already finished."
He expected better from those who controlled Gotham from the shadows.
He snapped his fingers, and instantly it was cleansed of all the blood. He had to make a good impression on the boy if he wanted to take him away gently.
If the kid doesn't follow him... well, he knew where another Lazarous Pit was located.
"I can get out of bed," Bruce said, frowning slightly. He had been awake for a short time, after his body had surrendered to sleep.
The curtains were closed to keep out the light, but as soon as he woke up, his room had been invaded.
Dick and Jason stared at him, skeptical. Alfred said, “With all due respect, Master Bruce, but we all know that you are terrible at taking care of your health. And you passed that on to the kids.”
"Hey!"
"Well, he's not wrong," Dick admitted.
Having them all there was alienating, but Bruce embraced the feeling. It was better to see his children there, together with him, than as in the vision.
Maybe it had been a hallucination, but a part of him, which he tried to silence, wasn't convinced.
He preferred to move on to something that didn't remind him of the excruciating pain of losing his son.
“What did you find out from Lord Drake?”
Jason bit his lip as Dick began to speak, “Not much. The housekeeper only followed the orders given to her.”
“Poison the child she were caring for?”
“She had no idea it was poison. She thought it was medicine.”
“Lord Drake hasn't lived in that manor for years. Was it just her and the kid?”
Dick shook his head, “She's like the fifth housekeeper Lord Drake has hired.”
“What happened to the others?”
"She doesn't know. She kept repeating that asking too many questions wouldn't help keep her job, and that she'd rather not go back to being homeless."
Jason snorted, “So the others are probably dead.”
“Jaybird, it's not certain. Lord Drake might have just fired them.”
“Yes, because they asked too many questions. Like, who is this weird kid we have to look at?”
Dick wrinkled his nose, “You have a point. But where are the bodies?”
“Drake probably dumped them somewhere in the alleys. It's not like one more body causes a stir."
Bruce was thoughtful, “Do you know their names?”
"Only two."
"Better than nothing. I'll ask Gordon to check it out. If these two women have disappeared..."
“They are definitely dead. Like the other housekeepers who were too curious,” Jason growled.
Bruce shared his anger. And he felt stupid. Lord Drake was not a violent man, apparently. But he too was apparently a hedonistic idiot.
We resort to masks to hide our true nature from others.
Dick said, “I wonder what poor Timmy must have seen. All alone in that house..."
“Timmy? Have you already given him a nickname?” Jason teased.
"Don't look at me like this. I heard you call him baby bird.”
“Because he's so fucking small! Have you seen him? Alfred will have to feed him twice as much!”
"Boys…"
“What do you want, old man? Do you think he won't stay? Like hell we'll make him come back to that damn house!” Jason snapped, while Dick nodded in agreement. “His sperm donor wants him dead.”
“I don't want to make him go back to Lord Drake. But have you wondered how he would take being stuck in a house with strangers? Without knowing why?”
The two boys didn't say a word. Dick bit his lip, "If the only adults he ever had to deal with were Lord Drake and the housekeeper… he'll be damned paranoid around you, Bruce."
“So we shouldn't be a problem.”
Bruce had a strange feeling that this wouldn't be the case. The boy had had a panic attack when he saw Jason. Maybe it was a coincidence, but he felt it was something else to take into consideration.
“We must proceed with caution,” he said to them. – Timothy comes from a difficult situation. He might try to escape.”
“Oh yes, I'm sure he will be welcomed back with open arms…”
“Jay…he doesn't know anything else.”
“Yeah, and he was our neighbor. How did we not notice?”
“He never left the property. – Dick realized. – They practically kept him prisoner in that house for years!”
Bruce clenched his jaw. It was the same thing he had thought too. Lord Drake had held his son prisoner. Oh, Drake manor was large, beautiful, rich. But it was still a prison. And whoever was inside didn't deserve to be locked up.
“It's lucky that he met Steph. At least now he has a friend."
Bruce raised an eyebrow, “Who is Steph? How did he meet her?”
“Oh, she dug a tunnel and ended up in Timmy's room,” Dick replied with a smile.
He thought Dick was joking. It seemed like one of the pranks that his son loved to play. But no one said anything, and so he asked, “Is this a joke or something?”
“Oh no, I'm serious. She actually dug a tunnel to get to a criminal's vault. But she took a wrong turn and ended up at Timmy's."
“The crazy thing is that he let her live with him.”
“Well Jay, he was lonely.”
“At least the brat has grown fond of him. If she had abandoned him in the sewers..."
“Sewers?” Bruce repeated. Why was everything that was coming out of the boys' mouths making him feel like he was missing out on a huge piece of history?
“Yeah, those two were running away or something. They had a map to help them find a person. Steph assumes it was Timmy's mother."
“And she is…”
“Missing, ” Dick said, sadly.
Jason muttered, “I would have run if I were him too. It was unfortunate that he was kidnapped by that bastard..."
The teenager stopped, shaking his good hand tightly. He was upset about something.
“Jay, what is it?” he asked, worried.
“You were kidnapped by a Talon. Did you see his face?”
Bruce shook his head. Jason then continued, “The Talon had my face. Do you think he was… a relative of mine?”
"Your face?"
“At least, I think I'll be like this when I'm in my twenties,” Jason admitted. “Do you think that Talon was a clone or…or something?”
"What do you mean?"
"I have no idea. But he said some strange things…like that the kid is some kind of gift…ah, and that you were the only option, and that maybe you wouldn't screw things up this time."
Should he feel offended? He had done damage with Dick, and was always on the verge of making Jason snap too. But for a Talon to start commenting on his parenting skills was the last straw.
“Looks like a Talon brought us a new little brother,” Dick joked.
“He's not your brother,” he said, but it sounded weak even to him.
“For now,” Jason said, a mischievous glint in his gaze.
Why did everyone think he would adopt some random kid? He will protect him and make sure he is reunited with his real family. Nothing else.
There had to be someone besides Lord Drake who could take care of him, right?
Strangely, the thought didn't reassure him as he thought it would.
When Tim woke up, he wasn't in his room. Nor in a bare cell with the Duke of Gotham.
He was in a large room with dark curtains, a mahogany ceiling and generally well kept.
He sat up, his head spinning.
“Hey, sleepyhead. Welcome back to us."
He squinted, “Steph?”
The blonde climbed onto the bed and poked his forehead, “You had me worried!”
“Um…sorry? If it makes you feel better, I didn't want to be kidnapped."
“Well, it happened! You're lucky we saved you.”
“You and…”
“Me and Jason.”
Tim felt his blood run cold, “Steph, where are we?”
“At Duke Wayne's home. Don't you remember anything at all?"
The world around him began to spin like a top.
Maybe Tim was being too dramatic. But how would you react if you discovered that you were at the home of the person you most wanted to avoid?
Person destined, together with the whole family, to hate your insides.
“I'm at the duke's house… oh God… I'm going to die…”
Tim fainted again, and Stephanie screamed, “Leslie!”