Chapter Text
Something felt off in Crime Alley.
Actually, something had felt off all week, but now it was coming to a head. The tension in Jason’s body was crescendoing, there was a ringing in his ears as the pit madness simmered on medium-high, and he didn’t have any one reason to point to why.
Sure, there was always some lingering in the peripheral of his headspace. And when it raged he could usually find someone to blame: a rise in human trafficking, a particularly rough patrol, rouges breaking out of Arkham. But he didn’t have any of those excuses. The fuckers somehow managed to stay in for now.
It felt like all of Gotham was holding its breath. And he had no fucking idea why. Usually when it was like this, it would be right after someone broke out, or after a long hiatus from the perpetual disasters that found their way to the streets.
But here Jason was, a week into this period, and nothing. Absolutely nothing. The anticipation was killing him. Or killing him again?
And strangely, the crime rate had dropped during this week too. Even the criminals could feel something. Nothing much more serious than a couple drug deals, a stolen car, and purse snatching happened.
He knew by the quiet chatter of Bruce’s swarm that they could feel it too. He had turned his comm on the last few nights, in case whatever this was finally just happened. Being out of the loop for disasters never sat right with Jason, and after everything , the comfort (he’d never call it a comfort to the others) of having others on the other end of a call, to help if he ever was cornered again… it was a safety net. As much as he loathed to admit.
And he definitely would not admit.
But the quiet side notes from Barbara, a laugh or joke from Stephanie, even the dry remarks from the demon child occasionally could distract Jason from the neon green creeping into his mind. He never talked on comms, but he was there. And the others knew it.
And so he waited. Impatiently of course, but he waited for something to happen.
It was as he returned to his apartment that something happened. That tension in the air snapped, the buzzing in his mind grew to a full blown shriek, he fell to his knees, slamming the door shut behind him.
Jason couldn’t hear it anyways. No, all he could hear were the pained shrieks, something inside him was hurting, whatever this was, whatever the pit was, it was in pain, and it felt like he was dying all over again.
Covering his ears, Jason tensed up, trying to block it out, but it was encompassing, every single muscle, every single molecule.
And as soon as it began, it all stopped. Laying there, in a puddle of his own sweat, Jason looked up at the ceiling, but didn’t truly see.
What he did see, he couldn’t understand. All he could see was blue, a vibrant blue color, battling out the green. And inside that blue was somehow warmth and familiarity, it whispered words Jason didn’t understand, it sounded loving almost.
“Hello?” Speaking to the void, Jason wasn’t actually sure what he was going to get back. But he couldn’t stay in this blue void.
“He needs your protection.” Jason could hear the words echo throughout his own body. “He is fragile.”
“Who?” Looking around, there was nothing, nothing other than green and blue.
“Your King.” The voice responded, and with a push, Jason sat up, startled and thinking he was going fucking insane as he looked around his little apartment.
“What the fuck.” He mumbled under his breath.
******
For someone who did not don the mask and cape, Alfred spent a lot of time in the Batcave. Over the years, Alfred had spent what probably added up to months if not years within the cave. Between fixing up wounds, bringing meals down to stubborn children (Bruce included), and actual cleaning, Alfred counted the cave as just another daily task of his.
And, it is because of this constant in his life, that Alfred is the first to notice that there is some sort of draft within the cave, and he noticed pretty quickly too.
It’s almost chilly. It reminded him of when he would wake for the earliest flights in the summer back in his Air Force days. The brisk fresh air would hit you in a quick burst when walking onto the tarmac before it was quelled by the heat of the summer.
Those days, his training that one particular summer was some of the best times he had before he left the Air Force completely. Before the deaths in the field got to him. Before he realized he could not patch up everyone, and those he did stitch up may not be there tomorrow. Before he left it all and found his own family here at the manor.
All that nostalgia from a simple chill.
A small smile graced his face as he continued cleaning the monitor, removing old coffee cups, spraying the keyboard with sanitizer, feeding the bats, and even as he had to shoo a sleepwalking Tim back to bed.
And if Alfred started to keep a couple extra blankets down near the computer, that was between him and the chill in the room. A welcome sort of chill.
********
The next one to notice the chill were actually the bats that inhabited the cave. All that mattered to them was that sometimes certain spots they liked to fly through were slightly colder than the rest of the cave.
It took them almost a week to notice, but you could cut them some slack, after all, they’re only bats.
But they don’t really count.
*******
The third one to notice a change in the atmosphere and temperature would be Damian Wayne.
He returned to the cave, alone, and pissed off at Drake and Brown. Damian had been on patrol with them. After that strange dry spell of crime last week there was almost double the intensity, as if they were making up for lost time.
Which is ridiculous.
It was also ridiculous that those two had sent Damian back home before the end of patrol! The rest of the night shift was out there! So what if he was stabbed in the arm. It wasn’t even bad. He’s had much worse.
It was as Damian stomped up the stairs after parking his bike that he first felt a chill. It was a full body chill, one full of adrenaline, and it reminded Damian of one of his proudest moments.
The first night his father took him out as Robin. They stood atop the tallest building, overlooking all of Gotham. The wind up that high was refreshing, up until that point, all he could think of was how his mother abandoned him. But up on that roof?
He felt free. For the first time in his life, he didn’t worry about what his grandfather would say, he didn’t worry about Assassins at his back. No, he looked out over the edge of the building with his Father beside him, and he felt good.
“Master Damian, we should get that wound patched up.” Alfred’s voice broke Damian from his daydream.
Alfred already had the medical table pulled out, a couple of throw blankets were on it, along with the medical supplies.
“Are you cold, sir? I brought you some hot chocolate.” The old butler looked over Damian carefully, his gaze lingered on Damian’s arm.
“Very well, Alfred.” Damian sighed, walking up the stairs two at a time. “If you already made it, I suppose I will drink it, it would only be a waste to let it grow cold.” The youngest Robin took the cup and hopped onto the table.
The blankets were a nice decision. It made it a little more comfortable. Of course that didn’t matter to someone like Damien, but it was probably good for a weakling like Drake.
“Very good sir. Let’s take a look at your arm.” After Alfred gave Damian six stitches that night, the two of them sat together, blankets around their shoulders, and just basked in the comfortable chill in the air, sipping on hot cocoa.
*****
Bruce noticed next, and if you asked him, he would say he knew the whole time. But he definitely did not.
It was shortly after Damian and Alfred’s hot cocoa night, the next day actually, when he felt his own chill breeze by.
He stopped typing in the database, and instead thought of his children. The first winter Damien ever spent with Bruce and the other kids. Dick had arrived on their doorstep, his smile a mile wide on the first snowfall.
His first Robin dragged all the kids outside for a snowball fight that were at the manor at the time. Duke, Tim, Stephanie, Damian, and even Cass had joined in. The youngest had declared snow ball fights stupid, because what was the point?
Damian was pelted by snowballs after that, and had no choice but to join in on the fun. It had been an all out war, the snow was still pristine, hadn’t gotten that grey coat to it that snow normally gets after a couple days in Gotham’s smoggy air. Instead it was something out of a postcard, or a holiday movie.
Kids laughing, shrieks of joy, they teamed up left and right, using their talents to make what was probably one of the most acrobatic snowball fights in history. And, then they had all turned on Bruce who was watching, and brought him into the fray.
The memory ended, and Bruce could feel the smile on his face as he slowly continued typing. Only… he paused after a few moments.
That was strange . Why would he remember such a thing right now? It was far from the winter months, in fact, it was summer. Why was he suddenly slightly cooler than normal?
Bruce looked around and spotted the new addition of blankets to the cave. So Alfred must have noticed too…
Meaning this wasn’t a one type thing.
Pulling up the statistics on the cave, Bruce frowned. Caves remain a constant temperature all year round, typically they would be the average temperature for the location, never changing. In fact, the Batcave had been a slightly chill 66 degrees for the last six years, and 65 the ten years before (Climate change).
But now, readings in the cave monitored it fluctuating as low as 62 degrees in the last fourteen days. That was strange.
He would have to do more research. But as he thought of that snowy day two years ago, he admitted to himself that a small change of temperature like that wasn’t nearly as big of a deal than things like his cases. It would be out at the bottom of the pile for now.
Instead, Bruce simply made a note of it. Perhaps there was a shift in the rock foundation, so he would check it out when he found some time.
But not now.
*******
It took seventeen days for Tim and Stephanie to notice.
Returning from a bout with The Penguin, the two vigilantes were tired and more than a little pissed off with Cobblepot. He was annoying, strangely fast for an old man, and his henchmen were just creepy.
Stephanie pulled off her domino mask first, hefting a big sigh, letting the tension release as she did so. It had been a long day, and she just wanted to run upstairs and take a nap. If she asked nicely, Alfred would probably even make pancakes in the morning. He made the best pancakes.
As she daydreamed of pancakes, a small chill curled around her shoulders, ruffled her hair, and then she was far away, thinking of a much different night.
The night she and Cassandra donned the Batgirl costumes together. It was a chilly evening, standing high above Gotham when Oracle gave them both Batgirl costumes. That first night, sure, they had fought for their lives and everyone else’s, but there was something else that grew inside Stephanie too. Too big to be ignored.
She wasn’t just some kid anymore fighting against her father and the destruction he caused, or blamed on her. No, she was a Batgirl, she saved lives, she was powerful in her own right, villains ran away at the sight of her.
More than that too, she was now part of a family. She didn’t have siblings growing up; no, she had been alone. But the moment Cass came around the corner, a sarcastic grin and arms up like ‘tada’, she finally got it. She wasn’t alone anymore, she had the other Gotham vigilantes in her corner as she soon realized.
Tim on the other hand parked his own bike then made a beeline for the computers. There was a mission to fill out reports on, he had a meeting with the WE funding board two days from now that he had to prepare for, not to mention with Duke out of town, Gotham didn’t have the daytime vigilante protecting the streets. He had to make the schedule for the next week until Duke and Cassandra finally returned.
“Don’t stay up too late Timmy.” Steph came up behind Tim, ruffling his hair with a smile on her face.
“Yeah, yeah, I won’t.” Tim grumbled. That dumb nickname. At least he had convinced everyone else not to call him that. The absolute horror he had when Bruce of all people called him Timmy. That was mind-wipe worthy.
Right as Tim was getting into his groove typing up the report from tonight’s patrol, a cold spot settled behind him. Blowing chilled air past him.
That small breeze wasn’t anything like flying, but for whatever reason, all he could think of was when Connor first got a handle on his flying powers. He took Tim with him, and they flew around for hours.
It was reckless, and stupid, cause they were in their civies, but come on! He remembers complaining to Batman, cause it was so fun. There was so much adrenaline and dopamine in his system, not to mention spending time with one of his best friends ever, yeah. That was a great time.
Tim, staying in his daydream, drifted off to sleep.
Batman returned from his nightly patrol, and what he found he couldn’t help but smile a little.
Tim was passed out at the computer, he even had a little drool puddle as he used the keyboard for a pillow. He couldn’t help himself and took a picture, he would have to show Alfred later.
Taking a moment to watch his son sleep soundly, Bruce let the atmosphere of the cave calm him. It had been more peaceful as of late. Damien wasn’t fighting with Tim constantly, tensions rose and fell in discussions in the cave. Something was nagging at the back of his mind. But for now…
Bruce carefully lifted Tim up, and carried him upstairs. The kid was getting too big for this, and he was getting too old. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t tuck in Tim Drake when he got the very rare chance.
Across the Batcave, a small blue orb pulsed. He was proud of himself. Those who wandered around in this space came and went often. And more times than not, they weren’t happy.
That didn’t sit right, with… what was his name again? She called him Phantom. So Phantom .
Phantom didn’t like that these heroes were so stressed all the time. So as he watched over them and gained back strength oh so slowly, he tried to share his emotions with them, the happiness he had that he was safe. Finally safe.