Chapter Text
Damian came back to his body a little when he realized that he was moving--- moving--- moving---
He flailed for a moment, fear taking over. WHERE---
A pair of arms pinned him from behind. Shamefully, instead of fighting back, Damian went still. Well, as still as he could get on---
A running horse?
He looked up, trembling. (Cold? Fear? Lack of food? He was so hungry---) The armored figure pinning him close looked just like--- but its movements were wrong--- (Akhi held his him so perfectly, so carefully, when Damian dared to crawl into his lap; Akhi would never hurt Damian, ever, but he could hurt Akhi---
Was it Damian’s hands that had held the whip?)
“Who are you?” he demanded, but his voice cracked. (When had he last received water? Not since being ushered underground--- the lava lake--- “Balance, my boy; life is all about balance”---)
His abductor did not answer him, but when he tried to move--- Where am I?--- the arms around his torso squeezed tighter. (It hurt, just like Grandfather’s grip on his arm had hurt--- He had no choice to walk, or was he being dragged? He would be dragged soon if he did not walk---)
Damian went still again, and the world grew fuzzy. He didn’t fight it. (He wasn’t scared. He had been trained to endure anything, survive anyone, and he would not disappoint, not again---) This person had promised to bring him to Akhi; another test, no doubt, that he was destined to fail, just like he’d failed when Grandfather had bid him kill a helpless bird---
“See, my boy? Just like this. Simple, isn’t it?”
There wasn’t very much blood, but then again, there wasn’t a very big body, either. The snap was so very loud for such a little thing; a sudden twist of the neck, and it was all over--- the lump of feathers struggled no more.
Would it miss being able to sing?
“Now you try.”
Damian’s stomach swooped as he was dropped mercilessly to the ground. His knees buckled, hitting cold dirt--- Cold? Where did the lava go? Did I fail that test, also?
Mere seconds later, he was yanked into a new pair of arms. Strong. Desperate. Familiar.
“Akhi?” he breathed.
No one answered him--- no one ever did--- but the arms squeezed impossibly tighter, pressing him to warmth, to safety, to a deep possessive growl…
Damian was too weak to fight it, so he curled up tight. Better for his Akhi to hold him. (Smaller, if this was a test, to be hit---)
There were voices nearby. People. Darkness, but not too dark; he could see a swirl of deep green, an angry voice--- Was this truly a test? Was he being moved, perhaps, to something even harder?
A soft thumping noise teased his ear, so Damian pillowed his head over his brother’s racing heartbeat, listening. It was quiet, easier to feel than to hear, but Damian had listened to its song since before he could walk--- He knew what it was.
His Akhi was here.
************
Talia waited for the approaching riders to come into view around the rocky ravine--- six--- thundering around Jason & Damian on the ground, circling them. Her father’s flowing green cape was apparent, even in the pale gray light of dawn.
Steeling herself one last time, she hurried from the shadows, a fierce scowl on her face. “Is it not enough that you have taken my son, Father, that you must take my young experiment as well?”
Ra’s drew his stallion to a halt, staring down at her with raised eyebrows & eerily glowing eyes, but Talia did not slow her angry stride.
“My impression of recent was that you wished to separate them,” she hissed. “not to cause another test with which this boy is to be broken.”
Ra’s snarled at her. “You would have me believe this is not your doing? How was the dumb creature to get here, Daughter, if not for your influence?”
“You very conveniently left a cargo helicopter unmanned after its delivery to Nanda Parbat,” Talia spat fiercely, ignoring the pounding of her own heartbeat. “What was I to think? I arrive home from my completed mission only to find both boys gone, and you with them!!! Explain this to me.”
Ra’s glanced from Talia to the boys huddled on the ground. A breach in understanding; a gap. Ra’s was not stupid, would never fully believe her, but there was enough of a cognitive dissonance that he could not fully dismiss the planted evidence, either. The helicopter records would show it had arrived hours before Talia’s Black Hawk had, if he deigned to check them. Talia had to dance lightly, steer inconspicuously, in order for this conversation to go the way she wanted it to.
She snapped her fingers, pointing, and two of her ninjas moved forward. Her heart wrenched as her son gave an agonized cry, struggling when he was pulled forcefully away from his protector.
“You don’t dare---” Ra’s began anew.
“Take him then, for whatever test you deem him so ready for,” Talia cut in, cold. “Jason is mine.”
Ra’s swung down from his horse, something wrongfooted in his micro-expressions. “I don’t want your whelp; I want his head removed with the sword that cut down fifteen of my guards.”
Fifteen, Talia thought vaguely; the same number that Jason had killed back at the compound. Shiva did her research disturbingly well. Aloud, she snorted, “You can not possibly convince me that this boy followed you across the continent, retrieved my son, and escaped before you had a chance to stop him. He is whipped, as you dared to lay a hand on him without my knowledge; his flight pattern was so unsteady it’s just as well he landed before he burned.”
“You doubt the very man you trained?” Ra’s spat back, fisting his cape in both wizened hands. His anger was getting in the way of his judgment; anger at Talia, yes, but useful nonetheless. “He is covered in the blood of my men, and you see fit to deny your hand in this?”
Talia drew herself up, ready to utter an angry retort, but the gap lingered as Ra’s glanced towards the struggling Jason. His angry gaze turned thoughtful, respectful, even, as he muttered, “Yet he was, after all, once Robin.”
Jason’s gaze jerked towards them as he weakly fought the grip of Talia’s assassins, but Ra’s did not seem to notice. He turned back around, sneering. “Do not think I have missed your enabling, Daughter. You continue to cause me grief, you AND your pet, and I refuse to tolerate it any longer.”
Talia felt hope flare anew. It was going to work. If she could only get Ra’s to think it was his idea alone--- “You can not have my son and the life of my project, both.”
“I want his head,” Ra’s ordered her, danger edging his tone.
“Father, he is more useful to us alive,” Talia hissed softly, feigning impatience. “How many times must I tell you? He has the makings of a great warrior, greater even than his teachers; if we can only harness---”
“Enough!!!” Ra’s roared at her, and Talia took a step back, lowering her gaze. A show of submission, of grudging willingness.
Silence reigned for a long while longer. She tried to ignore the soft hyperventilating of her son, held suspended by one of her assassins. He wasn’t reaching for his brother anymore. Perhaps he had learned not to.
This would hurt Damian more than anyone else, she knew, but it was a necessary sacrifice. The boy would understand in the end. Perhaps, if she played it right, Jason would even---
“His life,” Ra’s finally ordered, calculated & cold. “is to be mine. I will turn him into the warrior that you could not.”
Talia glanced up, feigning uncertainty, but yes, it was working--- The only possible solution in which both boys returned to her alive. “Father?”
The Demon’s eyes glinted dangerously in the near-darkness around them, narrowing at Jason’s nearly prone form. “Throw him in the Pit.”
“Father---”
Ra’s rounded with a snarl, his cape billowing behind him, and Talia once more lowered her head, folding her hands. Even as a favorite of the Demon’s many offspring, she knew her place.
Or so he was to think.
“Throw him in the Pit,” Ra’s demanded again, slowly. “and when he has finished raging against your men, return him to mine. I want to see him a useful tool to our noble cause, Daughter, or I want to see his corpse.”
Talia hesitated long enough to feign reluctance before jerking a nod. “Yes Father.”
Ra’s looked her over, then turned back towards his panting stallion, swinging himself into the saddle. He flicked his hand, dismissive. “Take your precious son. He is not yet ready.”
“Yes,” Talia agreed quietly, refraining from the strong desire to raise her eyebrow. If Ra’s didn’t think these were his ideas, his thoughts, her hard work would splinter apart before it could come to fruition.
Just a few more hours.
Ra’s pulled his stallion around with a vicious tug on the reins, barking harshly at his attendants in Arabic. Two of them stayed behind, no doubt to make sure Talia’s orders were carried out in full. The rest of them thundered back down the dusky ravine, disappearing into the deep blue shadows of dawn.
************
Damian flailed awake, a dismayed scream tearing at his dry throat. He had lowered his guard, allowing his mind to succumb to sleep; his trembling muscles had given out; he was tumbling into the hot magma below, about to burn alive in writhing agony just like the servant that Grandfather had shoved in---
Large arms wrapped around his body, stilling his tilted scramblings & squeezing him close. Akhi, he realized, and then that horrible thumping noise---
It was loud, too loud, but Damian remembered what it was. A helicopter. A ride away from that scorching hell; a ride to another test, perhaps, but---
He was not safe, but he was home. Damian sank against Akhi’s chest with a soft whimper. No one would hear him over the noise of the machine. Crying, that he would have to save for later--- He could see many people crowded around, or, more accurately, many legs. He was on the ground, it seemed, tucked snugly between his Akhi’s knees. He looked up, up, up a waterfall of deep majestic green, and discovered that they were sitting at Mother’s feet.
Mother looked livid.
Damian ducked his head again, pressing it over his Akhi’s heartbeat. It was fast, but the bodyguard remained still, hugging Damian with a desperate grip & shaking fingers.
Damian clutched Jason back, hoping distantly that they would be spared more pain… that this moment would last. There was no feeling he’d missed more than his brother’s heartbeat under his ear. And the protection that he’d been given--- The invulnerability he’d felt when Jason had patrolled by his side, always vigilant, always ready to defend with teeth alone, if it came to it--- that had been stripped away, also. “You are nearly grown now, my boy--- Why do you persist in your codependent behavior towards this fallen soldier? You are above such weaknesses---”
Damian’s thoughts were distant… hazy. Something was wrong. His precious mentality, his last defense, had been compromised. Was it still his own?
The thumping noise was slowing down. They were landing, Damian realized, peeking from the sanctuary of his brother’s enclosing arms.
Outside of the opening door laid Nanda Parbat. Sandy, rocky, cold as ever.
Damian had never been happier to see it.
The wind died away as the machine powered down, and Damian could finally hear his brother’s pained breathing. Akhi’s eyes were no longer open. He… He looked dead.
Damian reached for his brother’s carotid artery, stomach dropping out beneath him. (Dizzy, even dizzier, now; when was the last time he had been allowed to eat? When was the last time Jason had been allowed to eat?)
A pulse confirmed beneath his fingers, weak, but steady.
“He will live,” Mother told him, ice in her tone. She swept to her feet, nearly sending both boys tumbling out of the helicopter door. Damian clutched his brother tight, jostled about as they were ushered onto solid ground. He didn’t think he could walk, yet, so it was just as well---
Someone’s hands closed around his ribs, pulling him away. He struggled, whimpering--- He had to stay safe, stay warm--- and he was pulled to another shoulder. There were noises. Voices. The sounds of fighting.
He slow-blinked, pulling back. This person was not Akhi. This person was female, but it did not look or smell like his mother, either. (He didn’t want his mother--- He wanted Akhi.)
Akhi did not take him back. Damian twisted around, and the world swooped as he was set on his feet---
There… deep swirling green. This was another test, then, was it not? Ra’s had come to tell Damian what to do next.
The swirling green went away. Confused--- frightened, even, because the haze was coming back; something felt wrong--- Damian tried to follow. It would hurt, perhaps, but he wanted the wrongness to stop feeling this way.
The green turned around, and the world shifted on its axis, because this was not Grandfather, it was Mother---
Damian didn’t realize he was clutching her dress until she bent over, prying away his hands. She was speaking. He did not understand. (Fear, he realized; he was afraid, afraid of his mother, and that was wrong, too, because why--- Why would he be afraid?)
“--- must stay here,” he finally heard, the words sounding very far away. “You will likely know Jason no more. Go to your room; stay there until you are called.”
Someone pulled him back. Damian tried to resist, because this was wrong, everything was wrong, but he was so weak---
Mother disappeared from view, and Damian was walking, walking, walk---
A secret passageway passed him by, and he fell back half a step, dragging his feet. His guards continued walking; they would notice his absence at any moment, but if he was fast---
Damian slipped behind the tapestry. His heartbeat was too fast, too loud, and the air was so stale, but he pushed off of the wall, feet hastened by the shouts of his escorts. It only took a moment to get his bearings, to take a turn he had never taken before, because it lead down to the lowest levels of Nanda Parbat where his instincts had never dared allow him to go---
He knew what was happening now. He had failed a test--- Of course he had, why else would Grandfather have brought him back to Mother?--- and now his brother, his Akhi was going to pay the price. They would whip him or chain him or… or starve him, maybe…
Damian’s stomach grumbled, but he pressed on, feeling his way with stumbling footsteps as the path grew ever darker. If only he had---
A green glow finally pierced the black. A moment later, every hair of Damian’s body stood on end. That wasn’t the cry of death, the agonized screaming that echoed off the walls & hurt Damian’s very bones.
That was Jason.