Archive of Our Own ^beta

Bruce never did that.

Always, it was information sent through password encrypted files or emails or even just a blunt few words through the Communicator.

Never a family meeting.

End of the world situations or not.

So, deciding to find out what was troubling their shadow loving father, Rachel and Jason hopped on the soonest plane and flew from Russia (where they'd been paid to deal with a new uprising mobster in someone else's territory) to New Jersey on a fucking 10 hour flight.

Because, hey, curiosity killed the cat. But then, they were bats so that didn't really count.

"W'nder wha' he wants," Jason had murmured when it hit around three am and they were still on the flight home. Rachel, who had been half asleep, tilted her head to show she was listening but made no move to comment. Jason huffed silently, "Y'know - we know - how he is, R. B doesn't jus' call for the entire fuckin' family 'less some'ne's dyin' or worse."

"Well then," Rachel piped up, rubbing her eyes as they prickled from lack of sleep. "Let's hope it's not a funeral we're going home to but instead, hopefully, a party."

Jason snorted but said nothing else on the matter. Rachel guessed the conversation was over as she closed her eyes again and wished for sleep to take her.

Gotham was duller than usual. The smog was thicker and the little air remaining was tense. Rachel, in her sixty years of being a Talon and then ten-ish years of hanging around as Gotham's Nigtwing and the Remnants' Queen, had never felt it as bad as this before.

Ever.

Where Rachel excerted her paranoia into triple glancing at every shadow and fiddling more than she normally did, Jason had no qualms with speaking about it.

"Seems lovely," He glowered as they stood on the pavement, ouside the shack of a building Gotham called her airport, waiting for a cab. "Don't think I've ever felt all the hairs on my neck stand up like this before. Surely ya feel that?"

Oh, yes. She did feel that. That alien feeling of eyes watching from the shadows, that creeping sense of fear that anything moving too quickly brought, the eerie silence of a once bustling City now silent and dead. Rachel had only counted three people on the street in the last half hour. Before, when she was younger, she remembered counting over a hundred in three minutes. She assumed it was safe to bet that whatever happening with Bruce had everything to do with this.

Gotham was being watched by something dangerous and everyone knew it. Everyone could feel it.

After ten more minutes of waiting, Jason scowled and decided for the both of them they would walk because fuck sake, we've been waiting for forty-five minutes. I don't think the taxi's comin'.

Because nothing was worse than feeling the shadows clawing at your back while you waited.

So they walked.

The doorbell rung and a sudden fear struck Alfred as he worried one of the Justice League members had came, before he peered through the peeping hole and saw none other than Mistress Rachel and Master Jason, both looking none too happy. Smiling, in both relief and happiness, he opened the door and greeted the glowering couple.

"Mistress Rachel, Master Jason, how nice to see the both of you again! Master Bruce is waiting for you both in the study with the rest of the family, would either of you like some tea?"

Jason scowled as he stepped in and toed off his boots clumsily. "Trust the ol' man to have started without us."

Rachel, with a fair more amount of grace, nodded respectfully to him and gently slid her own steel toed boots off. "Hello, Alfred. I apologise for Jason's behaviour, our taxi didn't come and now he's in quite a sour mood."

Jason made a chittering sound and frowned down at Rachel. "Like ya ain't in'a mood too."

Rachel hit his arm none too lightly as she stalked by him but said nothing to dismiss the accusal.

Only when she disappeared around the corner, intent for the study, did Jason smile down at him. It was rough yet loving and the sight brought back memories of a fifteen year old boy, running around the Manor, joking and laughing, in Alfred's mind.

"Sorry, Alf," He said, pulling the man from his reminiscing. He rubbed at his arm in a nervous habit Alfred remembered from years ago. He laughed softly, "Rough day, y'know? Planes are hell t'sleep on and honestly, Rachel's in one of her silent mystery moods an' well..." He trailed off and Alfred put on his knowing smile.

"Two teas then, sir?"

Jason smiled at him again, and this time it was a bit brighter. "Yeah, two teas. Cheers, Alf."

When Jason opened the study door he expected books to be thrown, lamps to be smashed, pain to ensue and both of them getting booted from the Manor once and for all. What he did not expect was to find Rachel literally purring, stretched out on Barbara's legs.

Blinking at the sight, and at the glances the others were giving Rachel, Jason assumed Barbara had lured Rachel in with promises of a massage and she'd unravelled like putty. Jason kinda felt bad now that he hadn't given her a massage in a while. He knew how much Rachel loved them. This, itself, was testimonial to that very love.

Barbara laughed at him and like always her laugh brightened up the room, not nearly as bright as Rachel's true one did, but bright enough that Jason knew she was still his friend. "If I didn't know any better, Jase, I'd say that you were depriving Rache of her daily massages!"

Jason snorted as he lifted Barbs legs and, skillfully avoiding jostling R, sat down on the plush couch before lowering her legs back onto his knees. Rachel purred louder as Barbara dug her fingers in the place between her shoulder blades (honestly, Jason didn't know how Barbs could reach there with Rachel draped over her like a blanket) and closed her eyes.

"So," Tim interrupted, for his credit not looking uncomfortable in the slightest aside from the way his eyes carefully flickered away from the raptured Rachel. "If we could actually start this family meeting I'm sure it would save us all some precious time."

Now, Jason looked over to Bruce. The man was obviously brooding, fingers intertwined and eyes dark in the way his eyes only were when he thought about Bat buisness. He didn't seem like he was going to start monologueing any time soon so Jason decided to scan the room.

Tim had taken the couch opposite Jason's, with the mahogany coffee table seperating them (for the better). Stephanie was sitting beside him, scrolling through her phone with Cass snuggled up by her side. Jason wasn't sure if the two girls were together officially yet but he'd definitely support them when they admitted it. Anyone with half a brain could already tell what the two meant to each other anyway.

Damian, aka the brat or demon spawn, was sitting on a wooden doored display case at the back of the room, swinging his legs moodily and looking about as innocent as a thirteen year old should never.

Duke was sitting in front of the coffee table, tablet in hand, having pulled up a blue bean bag from somewhere.

"Yes, Father, I would love to hear your reasoning for why a family meeting has only now been called." Damian (or Dami, as Rachel was so fond of calling him) scowled.

That rose Jason's suspicions. No doubt, going off what the kid said, Gotham had been like this long before his and R's plane had touched down. The mystery brought a whirl of wonder that nowadays only killing and being with Rachel brought.

"Wait," Jason grunted, loving the way the geek and the brat stiffened at the loud voice. "So you're tellin' me, the fact our taxi didn't come is 'cause this shit's been happen'n' longer than just today?"

Steph set her phone down on her shorts covered thigh and rolled her eyes. "No shit, Sherlock. When did you find that out?"

"Just there now," Rachel hummed, sounding relaxed and not really like she cared. "We just flew in from Russia there, cold old bastard that place is. 'Specially up north."

Cass laughed, light and carefree to match Rachel's tone. "Really? We didn't know."

Barbs raised a firey eyebrow in amusement. "You sure its wise to try out your sarcasm on this one when she's half asleep?"

"Hey," Rachel muttered, half-heartedly batting at Babs' only accessible body part, which turned out to be her leg. "'m not half asleep."

Jason snickered and started massaging her socked foot. At this rate, Rachel would likely be asleep in less than five minutes. "Sure, sweetie."

Rachel turned her head slightly to glare at him but it didn't really have its wanted affect as its owners eyes closed as Babs began massaging her neck. "Oohh, that's soo nice. Yes, right there~"

Alfred chose that moment to open the door with a tray of tea with teacups in hand. The old butler, for his part, merely smirked at the sight as his moustache twitched. "Such a shame that you both ganged up on Mistress Rachel before she could have her tea, Mistress Barbara, Master Jason."

"Tea?" Rachel murmured, sounding half out of it. "I want some tea. Haven't had tea in years, all we drink now is that caffeine shit."

Jason rolled his eyes, "That's 'cause coffee's tha only thing that keeps y'awake for long enough for me t'drag us t'where we need t'go."

Rachel hummed as she sat up and leaned on him as Barbs was forced to sit up to get her tea. "Sure. Wha'ev'r ya say, darlin'." She chirped, mocking his accent that was getting thicker by the second thanks to stress.

Rachel yawned, pinching her nose as she shook her head. She opened her eyes and looked a tad less jet lagged when she accepted her cup.

Jason wanted to applaude her. This was Rachel's way of calming down a room. Acting relaxed (sometimes. Other times she used her charm) so everyone would lower their guards. When she'd walked in everyone had probably been tense and Rachel had siezed Barbara's offer of massage like a cat pouncing for a bird.

She was sly like that.

Jason hummed as Rachel settled up against his side, sipping her tea, and poked Barbara's legs. Obligingly, Barbara moved her legs a tad over so the older woman could sit there comfortably. Sometimes it was hard to remember just who the eldest was in this family -that being Rachel by a long shot. A very long shot.

She finished her tea, handing it back to Alf, as he sipped at his and wrapped an arm around her. Everyone else seemed content, silently enjoying the company of having a family around now. Jason supposed it was nice, just all being in one room at the same time with no fighting or screaming or accidental stabbings.

Bruce spoke up, surprising them all, when the last tea cup was given back to Alfred and the butler stood and carried away his tray, softly closing the door behind him before returning to stand by it a moment later, tray disposed of. Rachel used the surprise to her advantage and pulled his arm closer, more in his lap now than anything as she draped herself over him. When this was over Jason was dragging them both to bed, he was sure Alf had kept their room clean (god the Blackout Room -being an unknown, kept secret, armoury to all but the two of them- was probably covered in a good few inches of the shit called dust). The butler was good like that.

"As you're all aware I have called this family meeting." Bruce says and motions behind him to the looming dark, dangerous looking clouds settling on the horizon. If Jason was completely honest, he'd say that the clouds don't look natural. He doesn't do anything other than grunt. "This is because something is coming."

Stephanie snorts, "Since when is something not coming?"

Bruce gives her a chiding look that's filled with so much urgency it fills Jason's chest with red hot ice and makes Rachel pull out of his grasp, sitting up inquisitively.

"Darkness is coming," Bruce says, voice monotone yet hushed and worried. "This is the worst we'll ever face and I won't be able to do it alone, so I'm asking you all for your help."

Tim raises an eyebrow, as unimpressed as the rest of them. Jason's heart preens at the fact that Bruce is simply coming to them for help now but pushes it down as Rachel shifts oddly, jerkily almost. "Being a little vague there, B."

"Yes," Jason adds coldly, sparing Rachel a glance and finding she's oddly silent. "Please do 'laborate, Bruce."

"A Bat god by the name of Barbatos is coming to destroy our world."

And god, Jason would never have thought in all his years of standing by Bruce's side that this is what has the big Bat's panties in a twist. It's comical.

A Bat god is coming for the Batman.

Tim cracks first, hand shooting up to stifle his snickers as Duke and Stephanie follow quickly. Cass rolls her eyes, giggling into her palm, and Barbs snorts as Damian shakes his head in a rare show of mirth, chuckling. Jason doesn't deny the hearty, rumbling laugh after a few seconds. Alfred's moustache twitches and his eyes squint.

In a matter of seconds the entire room is filled with laughter.

Bruce and Rachel are the only ones frowning. Both looking entirely serious.

Bruce glowered at him, "I am not one to lie when a god is after me."

"Barbatos is after you?" Rachel asks. Her tone is weird, knowing almost, and that alone makes Jason stop laughing. "The Court spoke... highly of him."

That gains everyone else's attention. Rachel rarely speaks of her time there and when she does it's gruesome and cruel but she knows her stuff. This is practically the Bat Family's story time. The thought brings a rueful smile to Jason's face.

"They referred to him as the God of the World Forge, having once been the Dragon - the destroyer of the unstable worlds that the God hammered out - he rebelled and betrayed his master. He took over the dark, unstable worlds and is destined by fate to bring armies of pitch black through the multiverses -which consists of 52 known worlds, including ours- to take our world." Rachel tilts her head, "That the one you're talking about?"

Bruce swallows before he speaks. Jason swears he looks paler than normal. A pit a mile wide settles in his gut and makes him queasy. "Yes. He was there when I was sent back in time and he's been watching me, waiting for his portal to open since the beginning."

"Wow," Tim says with the arrogance of dismissal. "Being a bit cocky over there, Bruce? Why would he watch you - Batman?"

Rachel speaks for him. "Because the Waynes were part of the Bat god's tribe at the beginning of time. There were three tribes of man, originally: the Bird tribe, the Wolf tribe and the Bear tribe. The Bat tribe was born in darkness, worshipping what what no man should. The Bird and the Bat tribes fought, and the Birds won -the main part, our part, in this is that the Waynes were part of the Bat tribe but rebelled and became part of the Birds. He wants revenge for our technical betrayal and, of course, another world to ruin."

Bruce took over before everyone could fully take that in. "The basics are that one with the purest Wayne blood - currently me - needs to be treated with five metals for the portal to open, because for some damned reason only a descendant of old blood can open the portal, and allow Barbatos and his Nights into our world. I've already been treated with four of them."

"Damn," Duke said whenever he sucked that all in. "So somehow you've became the doorway for this big bad god and now he's...what. What's he doing? Why is he only acting now?"

"He's been waiting for his followers to open the portal, most likely." Damian mused from his display cabinet. "Assuming he has followers?"

Rachel nodded, "He does. The Court had a small section of it devoted to the uprising of Barbatos since its beginning due to it formerly being the Judas Tribe, better known as a part of the Bird Tribe that broke away from their teachings to worship the Bat before evolving and taking the name of the Court. From my stint as the Remnants' Queen, I can tell you that section disappeared after the Burning. To make things better, he also has the Strigidae - dark priests, of a sort, who worship him with their ever lasting immortality. They'll help open the portal."

Cass whistled, "The Owls have been around that long?"

"The Court had a habit for hiding in time," Rachel said and left it at that.

"Is this all we know?" Barbara asked, sounding frustrated. Jason understood. Barbs liked to have all the data, all the calculations, everything, before she pounced. She was out of her comfort zone.

But then weren't they all?

Dealing with a god. One that had his eyes on the Wayne family since the beginning of time nonetheless. They'd never done that. They'd never even breached upon that threshold and to be suddenly thrust into it? It was sudden and quick and it hurt.

"No," Rachel said. "Anything beyond what we've simplified is too much. There is only so much logic a god can or will go by. Barbatos is one of those ones who ditches the rules of physics and makes new ones."

"I'll try my luck, R." Barbara says, tone steely. Jason understands, sure he does, but the protective feeling that bubbles up at her tone towards Rachel is still there anyway. "We need to know everything about this guy if we're going to defeat him."

"But what if we don't know everything, Babs? Rachel said he bends the rules, if he can do that I'm pretty sure he can manipulate the information about him." Steph juts in, phone long forgotten. She looks calm though as she explains her reasoning and Jason can feel the sudden tension drop as Barbs pouts into the couch.

Tim nods, apparently understanding the situation now. His teasing smile is long gone. "That's possible. You meantioned Nights, Bruce? What did you mean by that?"

"Yeah," Duke asked. "Barbatos got something waiting in the night for 'im?"

"An army?" Cass suggests when B just sits there silently.

"No." Rachel says at the same time that Bruce shakes his head and opens his mouth. R fires on, "The Dark Nights are his personal... warriors, you could say."

"Alternative darker versions of Batman and Bruce Wayne." Bruce adds when Cass tilts her head. "Alternative me's."

"Are they from the unstable worlds?" Tim asks, sounding sickeningly interested. Jason frowns. This doesn't sound good. Not only do they have to deal with a god but evil versions of Bruce? "The different realities?"

"Yes," Bruce nods, the shadows from the setting sun that make it past the deadly clouds, casting over him in a myriad of darkness. For a second Jason thinks the dark has sucked him into its grasp and his heart jumps and bucks frantically in his chest. He lets out a silent breath of relief whenever he resurfaces. "Different Bruce Waynes, all of whom are twisted and have no morals. Essentially, the things my fears have spawned."

"Huh." He says to cover up the heart surging fear he now has. Rachel leans into him in an unseen hug for his benefit. "So we've gotta deal with a bunch o' evil you's an' kill Barbatos?"

Bruce goes the sort of silent whenever he's emotionally constipated (which is practically always). Damian speaks up.

"Obviously," the brats says, confident in his words. "We are a family and we stick together. We will battle this together, as one. I will not let some god kill Father, I refuse to allow it."

Stephanie smirks at him, "I'm in too. One question, though: how do we kill a god?"

"We don't. We can't, not by death anyway." Bruce interrupts, finally. "We must drive him out, away. Nth Metal is the strongest metal we currently know of, I have a small box containing a shard of it in the armoury but we'll need more."

"To do what?" Tim asks.

"Yeah, you just said we couldn't kill him, Bruce." Barbs joins.

Rachel grins, leaning like she's reading his thoughts. Bruce levels her gaze and sits firm. "You don't want Nth Metal do you? You want the tenth - Element X. The metal straight from the Forge of Worlds. You want to become the bearer and fix things, don't you?"

Bruce nods. Jason gets the feeling they know more than they're letting on. "It has the power to rewrite the universe. The cosmos. Barbatos will destroy this world, he'll take me and if I'm broken out of my hell, I can travel to the World Forge."

"Sweet." Duke says, then he rolls his eyes back and sticks his tongue out in the highest form of melodramatics. "I didn't understand any of that."

"For once, Thomas," Damian says begrudgingly. "I agree with you, why must you gather Nth Metal if you just need the tenth, Father?"

"Because he needs to be in the dark multiverse to get that," Rachel says. "Element X is the only thing that can kill or rewrite everything but we have to work with what we've got. We got Nth Metal, that may not kill him or harm but it can hurt his Nights."

Barbs snaps her fingers like she's solved a puzzle. She glances over at Bruce. "You want to stall the enivitable. You want to give everyone else hope, keeping them busy while you get Element X and become its wielder. Amirit?"

Bruce smirks like Barbara has just solved his crossword with one look. "Correct, Barbara. If the League think there is something that they can access and think will help it will push them forward. They are humans too --"

"Most of them," Cass pits in.

Bruce nods, "Yes, Cassandra. Most of them. The point is, if they think there is something that can help it'll give them hope and it will me time, while they search, to find the tenth metal."

"And where do we come into this, Bruce?" Rachel asks, leaning against Jason's chest deceivingly relaxed. "Now, I'm in - of course I am - like the brat said, we're family and we stand by each other but you keep going on about how you'll find the metal. What do we do while you're... while you're dead?"

The unspoken fear is there. No one mentions it as the tension that seems to linger around them all drops down on everyone's chests, smothering their hearts and choking their vocal cords.

Bruce sighs and leans forward, pushing past the barrier as he puts his elbows up on the desk, resting his chin on his twined fingers. "I need you all to play along. Whenever Barbatos' men -the Dark Nights- come first, because they will, they need to, they will harvest people's souls and put their bodies on Towers. Those Towers will power the process that is called The Sinking."

"Read up on this, didn't you?" Rachel hums, previous tension gone from her voice. Adding, "And The Sinking is when our planet is pulled into the Dark Multiverse. If that happens well... we wouldn't know then, because we'd all be dead. Everything would be destroyed upon being pulled into the Dark 'Verse."

"Yes," Bruce nods. "Gotham will likely be taken over, as well as the other states and countries. I need you all to do what you've done for years - I need you to fight on the side of the heroes."

Stephanie snorted as if it was a joke. "Do you really need to ask that, even now, Bats? I was in the moment you said go."

Cass rolled her eyes, "He didn't say go, Steph." 

Stephanie spluttered and growled, "I'm in anyway, shut it."

Cass offered her a smirk before she turned to Bruce. "I, too, am in. You all are my family, and I will not lose any of you."

"Very nice, Cain." Damian -tt-ched. "Touching. I, as stated before, am also in."

Tim cleared his throat, "Did I jump the boat or something, brat? It's my turn to speak." Damian glared and Tim glared right back. Jason smirked as Tim broke it off and huffed at Damian's valiant smirk. "I've been living here for years, and although some of us got off to a rough start-" He eyed both him and Rache. Rachel had the audacity to grin tauntingly at him. His expression soured before he smirked. "-you are all my family. And yeah--"

Damian cut him off, scowling adorably. "Get to the point, Drake."

Tim glared icily at him but cut to the chase anyway, "What I was going going to say is that I'm also in." He frowned at Damian. "Brat."

Duke shrugged, butting in before the two started brawling. "I mean the answer's pretty obvious. I'm with you all in this. I'm in."

Barbara grinned dangerously. At that moment, clouded in the creeping dark of the now long gone sun and threatening looking clouds in the distance, she looked every bit the powerful and threatening Batwoman that she was. "Do you even need to ask? We stand as one and we fall as one. I was in from the start."

Rachel laughed, "That's not the saying, Babs." Barbs rolled her eyes and Rachel calmed down. Her eyes glinted menacingly in the way they did when, Jason had come to realise, Red was trying to break through. It made her look eternally... supreme.

"I have been around much longer than you all, I have killed, I have saved and all of the above. Never before have I went up against a god. Never have we stood together in such an important time." Her head tilted, eyes burning back to their pale blue, canines glinting in the shadow of the moon. "I will fight with you all, no matter what. I am in."

It was his turn now. Something alien bubbled and burned within him, he'd wanted to have a week to treat Rachel and they'd been on the verge of finishing up and going before this summons. He supposed the end of the world would get in the way of their little vacation.

Yeah, that would pose a problem.

He shrugged, "Why the hell not? If ev'ryone else is havin' fun, why can't I? I'm in."

Jason swears to fucking god, Bruce grinned. "Thank you. All of you."

They laughed. Rachel hummed, "No problem, B. Anything for our shadow lurking Bat dad."

Bruce's eyes glimmered as he nodded and spun his chair around to stare out the window.

Barbara pondered the question. Duke had wandered off to the Cave, claiming he needed to service his suit. Jason and Rachel were (hopefully) in bed, sleeping off the jetlag. Tim had vanished to the library. Bruce was refusing to come out of his study, insisting he was reading something important. And she, Steph and Cass were all in the living room, watching some crappy soap because they had nothing better to do.

It was also around seven and they hadn't had anything to eat yet other than that tea Alfred had brought up to the study a few hours ago.

"I suppose so," She said, putting her feet up on her seat's arm. Her firey, and as Jason often joked, orange, hair swirled into her face and she briefly entertained the thought of cuttng it shorter before dismissing it. She liked her hair long, it was essential to the Batwoman suit too. "If we do I'm not waking R and Jay up."

Steph laughed running her hands through Cass's hair. The other girl was lying in the niche between the back of the couch and Stephanie. Surprisingly, she looked quite comfortable. Idily Barbara noted Cass had let her hair grow longer as well. "Can't blame you for that! So.. Who's going?"

-/-/-

All Tim had wanted was some piece and quiet to go over every book in the library that hinted towards gods or history of the early days of man. Of course there wasn't much on the latter (nearly nothing) but it didn't hurt to look.

What he did not want was to be put on -as Barbara had dubbed it- 'wake up the Rogues duty'. But, even years after their inital dating, Tim still couldn't say no to Stephanie's puppy dog eyes. Essentially, he'd been blackmailed.

Him. Blackmailed.

Yep.

Now, he was carefully tiptoeing up what had to be the loudest, creekiest stairs in the entire universe. Why Rachel had relocated her room up to the attic of all places a few years after her arrival to the Manor, Tim had yet to be told the reason.

It was common knowledge the Manor had two wings -the East wing and the West wing- both with two floors. Then the main building with a total of six -including the attic- floors. Tim had no idea why someone needed this much space.

Tim made it to the third staircase when a black blur rushed by. Tim startled, yelping as he jumped. A second passed after the blur had passed around the corner before it appeared again.

"Tim?" That was Rachel. Rachel. Should-be-sleeping Rachel. Why had she rushed past him for no apparent reason?

"Yes." He said, reasonably irritated now that he'd wasted a good five minutes climbing the stairs only to run into one of the people he needed. "I was just coming to get you both."

"Huh. Coincidence much, kid?" Jason chuckled, appearing at the top of the stairs for the fourth floor.

"Why were you coming to get us?" Rachel asked, tilting her head and still looking half dead. She was wearing some ratty Celldweller t-shirt that didn't look like it fitted her, (Tim would bet ten bux to say it was Jason's) and some black jogging bottoms that looked too worn to be new. She was wearing odd socks.

Tim glanced between the two and found Jason looked about as dead as Rachel did, having shrugged on a AC/DC t-shirt and long trailing trousers. "Hah. The question should be: why are you guys out of bed?"

Jason snorted, stomping down a few steps to stand one before him. Tim was ashamed to say, even when the older boy looked half dead he still loomed threateningly over him in a way that made Tim very uncomfortable. "Tryin' t'boss us 'bout, kid?"

Rachel smirked and started tapping her green socked foot impatiently. "I'm hungry, so we're gonna get food first."

"Oh," Tim said. "Well I was actually coming to get you both to tell you Barbara went out and got McDonald's for everyone."

Jason rolled his eyes and jumped the last five steps to the third floors landing. He lightly tapped Rachel who smirked at him before vanishing. "Should'a started with that, kiddo."

-/-/-

Wayne family dinners were, for a lack of a better word: chaotic.

With eight kids and then one over sixty year old (who sat there silently, unlike everyone else) and one sometimes qualified not fully-fuctioning adult in one room all trying to eat dinner, it was not a silent event.

"Pass me tha salt."

"Jason, the fries are covered in salt, how much more do you need?" Babs clutched the salt shaker close to her so Jason couldn't get it.

"'Bout three more shakes an' it's not for the fries. S'for the burger."

Duke fake gagged, "Salt on a burger? Eww, where have you been all these years?"

"Can I get tha salt?" Jason asked again.

Babs made a face, "I don't know, can you?"

"Pass him the salt." Rachel spoke up, stabbing a piece of lettuce with her fork.

Babs rolled her eyes, "Yes, mom."

Steph chuckled, "She's technically old enough to be your mom, y'know."

Damian snorted, "As if Rachel would want to mother anyone here."

Tim nodded solemnly, "The brat has a point, Rachel definitely wouldn't want him."

"Hey!"

Rachel rubbed her eyes ruefully as a fry ended up in Tim's hair.

"Really, boys, please act your age."

"I am acting my age," Damian persisted. Rachel realised he was right.

"Tim, act your age."

"But-"

"Eat yer wrap, kiddo." Jason intervened, smirking.

Damian grinned cockily at Tim whenever he glowered at him. Tim picked the fry out of his hair only for it to be replaced with two more.

Jason laughed, "I suggest y'keep your food fer yourself, Demon Spawn."

Damian turned away, silently brooding as he picked at his ("Vegetarian, Gordon.") salad.

Cass spoke up from where she was beside Steph. "What's troubling you, B?"

Bruce looked up as everyone's attention switched to him. "The League want to go on a mission to space but with the clouds over Gotham-"

Jason snorted, interrupting him. "Chill, B. We can deal with the storm brewin'. Ya go and have fun with your friends while they still like ya."

Bruce seemed ready to protest. Duke interrupted, steering the conversation away from the cloud - sort of. "I fitted my suit with dark matter perceptors, we'll know whenever the matter spikes and the information will be immediately sent to your cowl if you're within the satellite's range."

Bruce nodded gratefully, "Thank you, Duke. Good thinking."

Duke smiled.

Steph added, "And what can possibly go wrong?"

-/-/-

Everyone groaned.

The storm raged over Gotham, stark white lightning struck down over their City as thunder boomed. The wind howled in their ears and half the family were shivering from the cold. They'd gotten caught during patrol in the storm when it had decided to start pouring. The only good side to that meant most bad guys had called it a night. Then the ground had shook with such force Tim fell over. They'd since retreated to a clear rooftop to get a better view.

Stephanie laughed awkwardly, "Jinxed that one didn't I?"

"The dark matter energy readings are off the charts, guys." Duke spoke up, comm crackling as the transmission struggled to be recieved where they were standing out on Gotham's rooftops from where Duke was sitting comfortably at the Computer, dry and warm. Cass sighed.

Rachel wasn't too happy, her body language being jerky and stiff. Jason was past the point of caring openingly, worrying internally as the weird lightning crunched down around the newly formed mountain in the middle of their City. Stephanie was confused and Tim was calculating and planning from where he was crouched at the very edge of the rooftop. Everyone, including Cassandra herself, was scared.

They hadn't planned for this, they weren't prepared for a mountain - Challengers Mountain, nonetheless - to suddenly appear in their City, moving hundreds of shops and homes out of the way in a shuddering move, making way for itself. With Batman out in space with the other League founders they had no other way to contact him that didn't mean seperating themselves from the current situation. They couldn't leave Gotham, not now of all times.

"So..." Stephanie started, trailing off. Rachel jerked her head for her to continue and she did. "What do we do now?"

Rachel and Jason shared a glance and a few subtle movements that held so much emotion Cass struggled to comprehend their intensity for a second. Jason cleared his throat, the sound sounding far more sinsiter than normal thanks to his helmets voice modulator.

"We go home. We'll keep watch from the monitors." Another glance from Rachel. "Darkwing: we need alarms set up for when tha League return. Bruce needs t'know 'bout this soon as possible."

-/-/-

"Bruce." Rachel said, sounding worried even over the comms. Duke held his breath. "The dark energy readings around Gotham have spiked dramatically since Challengers Mountain appeared. This is the sign, B. This is the beginning of it all. The mountain isn't normal, it just appeared."

Rachel was with the newly returned Justice League, 'debriefing them before they did something stupid'. In Jason's words, not Duke's.

"What?" Hal sounded dramatically confused. "English, please."

"She's saying that this isn't natural, and it definitely isn't." Cyborg tried to simplify despite not knowing the truth himself. Jason rolled his eyes in the corner of Duke's vision. Duke sighed as he sat back and spun the seat in a circle.

What came after the storm now that it and the peace was gone?

Chaos?

Pain?

Duke just hoped they all survived.

They had to.

They would.

"The mountain, according to my scans, is hardened core magma." Victor continued, repeating what the Bat family all already knew. "It isn't from the earth's crust, it's not a naturally forming mountain and.. it's hollow on the inside."

"It appeared during a freak storm." Rachel added, purposefully trying to be vague around the League, Bruce already knew everything thanks to the file sent to his cowl. She made a rustling sound, suggesting she shrugged as her cowl lenses captured the League sharing a glance. "Just like an earthquake, ground seemed to open up for it, everything moving away for it to appear."

Clark nodded, "Barry, scout around it for a way to get in. Did anything else appear with it, Nightwing?" A red lightening filled streak followed Allen's exit.

Rachel snorted, "What? You think aliens popped up with it too, Clark?"

Silence.

"Nothing came with it, Clark." Rachel laughed, it was the dark one that came with challenging situations.

"Barry found a door," Orion said as the League went tense in unison. "It was a pleasure meeting you today, Nightwing, but it seems we are needed elsewhere."

Rachel stood there as the rest of the League walked or flew on by her. She put a hand on Bruce's arm when he walked by. "Don't do anything stupid."

Bruce grunted. Duke couldn't tell if he'd assented or not.

-/-/-

"Don't do anythin' stupid, Bruce." Jason mimicked, sounding pissed. Of course, he had the right to - Bruce had stolen the crazy bird lady's shard of Nth Metal and taken it back to the Cave.

His thievery and subsequent dissapearance had resulted in the League searching for him. That meant they had to dress up as Batman and ride through the Amazon on motorbikes with Damian driving an armoured vehicle.

Yeah, and did Jason meantion them having to drag Clayface - Basil Karlo - into this? Yep, they'd put him in the vehicle's hold dressed as Bats with a live feed of B's heartbeat in him in a transmitter. ("Clark will hear our heartbeats and know it's us," Tim had said, brandishing the small bat-shaped transmitter. "Basil can put this in his chest and Clark will think it's him. Of course, it'll only work for a little while so we have to be quick in vacating the place.")

Still, the other Leaguers didn't know who was who. That was the fun bit.

Jason and Tim where on the right of the vehicle with Cass and Barbs on the left. Duke was leading the charge, driving faster than all of them in front of the vehicle. Fast enough so Damian couldn't accidentally run him over.

Rachel had absolutely refused to out on the suit and when they'd pulled her into it (involving a lot a squirming and complaining and some half-decent team work, if Jason had to put his opinion on it) they'd all found she was way too slim for it. Unlike Cass and Barbs, who'd put extra kevlar and foam in theirs to give off B's build (because the holograms only covered and changed their faces), Rachel had firmly stated she'd cover them. As Nightwing.

"We've found him!" That was Diana. No doubt the rest of the League would be on their tail soon. With a shared nod they split, driving off in different directions to gain as much ground as possible.

They were all wearing light brown backpacks, trying to confuse the League into thinking one of them had the Nth Metal shard. Jason honestly didn't know why Bruce had to steal the metal to see if it gave off the same energy as his little shard. (Which was now in pieces as it had been used in some future seeing machine causing the strain to break it.) But he had and now here they were. Running from the League.

Jason just hoped this plan bought them time.

Sure enough, in a matter of minutes the entire League were in the forest, all shooting forward for their own Batman. Diana started shouting at Damian and Rachel decided then to jump down onto the vehicle, from where she'd been running alongside the van in the trees, scaring Wonder Woman as she started wrestling with her. Jason was thankful the face holograph masked his grin or else it would've given him away.

"Surrender!" Clark shouted as he helped Diana by flying onto the roof and aiming a punch at Rache.

She dodged, barely, being forced into doing a handspring off the front bonet to stop herself from being driven over. Jason could practically feel as Damian gritted his teeth in an effort not to jerk the steering wheel. Whatever, the brat could drive the Batmobile at thirteen. Jason couldn't drive at all at that age so he trusted him a lot more to not crash.

Rachel clashed her swords against Diana's braclets as Jason veered off to the right, away from the fighting to avoid Hal's light construct of a train. It whooshed by with the Lantern swerving and dropping the construct to follow after him, brushing away tree leaves and branches constantly.

"C'mon, Bats!" Hal hollered after him. "Stop driving and fight me!"

"Not now, Jordan." Jason growled trying hard to not let his accent peep through, the mask changing his voice to match Bruce's rumbling, gravelly tenor. He ditched the bike when he spotted the cave he knew to belong to the swamp dude. And being his fearless self, he ran straight into it. Hal followed, clueless as to the wrath he'd stormed upon.

"Who dares disturb my swamp?" The swamp creature bellowed, shocking Hal who stuttered where he floated. Jason quickly dodged behind a rather large -real, thank you very much- rock as the green, vine covered huge verson of a man emerged from the swampy waters of the cave's pond.

Hal audiably gulped, "Uh, um, no one? Heh, don't mind me-"

The swamp dude stomped towards him and Hal fluttered back a few inches. The creature bellowed, louder than before and swatted at Hal. "BEGONE!"

Jason has to say he'd never seen Hal squeak at that high a pitch or fly away that quickly ever before. The swamp man followed furiously, swatting at him as he got into a decent jog (how the thing could even jog at all disturbed Jason so he didn't dwell on it) that left him a few paces behind Hal.

Snickering haughtily, he crept out of the rather small -compared to the Bat Cave- cave, back into the bright world. Sprinting back to the scene he found Barbs, Tim and Steph all tied up around a tree by a few vines and being supervised by Aquaman. Rachel was rolling about with Clark, trying to keep him away from Karlo while Cass was determinedly fending off Diana. Barry was nowhere to be seen and Jason was sure that Hal was dealing with the swamp monster he'd sic'ed on him.

"Found you!" Barry's voice exclamied gleefully from behind him. Jason whirled just in time for a batarang to find Flash's shoulder. Barry winced, clutching the shoulder as he pulled out the batarang. "Well, you're definitely rude enough to be, Bruce."

"Compliment me later, Allen." He snarled, lunging for him. Barry whistled, quickly dukeing out of his path as he delivered a sly kick to the back. Jason caught himself on his gauntleted hands and pushed himself flawlessly up onto a one handed handstand and then kicked Flash upside the face with his heel while doing a backflip to get to his feet.

Barry staggered back just as Orion roared, charging him as he wrapped his arms around him and tackled him to the ground. Jason struggled, trying to buck him off as he gritted his teeth.

"I've got you now, Bruce." Orion growled, reaching forward for the cowl. Just as he was about to rip it off, Diana's body slammed into him from the side, sending both of them tumbling.

Barry squeaked as Cass, now in her Black Bat suit -the hologram having been found out- winked at him playfully and lunged. How she'd changed that quick (or where she'd even hidden it) Jason didn't spare a thought.

Jason stuck to his character and grunted his thanks as he got up to his feet, he made it up in time to see Clark punch down into the armoured vehicle's hull as Rachel was pushed back. Jason was amazed Rachel was still standing and still going up against Clark of all people.

Rachel spied him and nodded towards Duke. Jason glanced over and found the kid succesfully holding off Victor. Jason barreled forwards, staying out of Damian's path as the vehicle charged onwards, and lunged on top of Cyborg's back. The man yelped, immediately reaching back to scrabble at his prying hands. A spray of sleeping gas in his face had his human part stumbling back.

"That'll keep him down for a bit." He nodded to Duke who playfully saluted him.

"Cheers, old man."

Jason grunted. "Watch your mouth."

Duke cackled as he went about tieing up Victor. Jason turned at the sound of Bruce's voice and found Clark holding Basil's spotless impersonation of Bruce by the neck. He was blabbering away like they'd planned, Clark seemed to be buying it too.

Until he punched his fist through Karlo's chest.

Damian hit the breaks and the armoured vehicle screeched to a sickening stop.

Silence.

Diana looked shocked and repulsed at the same time, Barry from his side vision looked stunned and Orion looked ready to start yelling. Until Karlo turned back into his original form.

Jason motioned for Duke to get the others and start running.

"Clayface?" Diana questioned. Jason went stock still as everyone turned to him. Rachel clambered to her feet, having been jolted forward a tad when Damian had slammed down on the breaks.

She felt lightheaded.

"Rachel!"

The world snapped back in place. The darkness was gone filled with too many too bright lights and moving shadows. A familiar red helmet shone in the light, beautiful reflections of fire scorching their way along his jawline. Rachel felt numb. Out of sync.

Large, warm arms wrapped around her and she fell flush into the embrace. What had happened? She rolled around in her head for answers that just weren't there as the man urged her to walk, setting her feet on the ground as his arms remained around her waist.

She swayed in place and would've fallen if not for the man -Jason, it was Jase- pulling her upright. He started mumbling things under his breath, mixed varieties of multilingual curses and sweet reasurances at the same time. It was disorienting. She felt dizzy.

What had happened?

Gotham. Red murmured softly, almost silently compared to the rumbling, earth shaking explosion that went off behind them. Jason swore louder, and other voices joined in. Rachel briefly recognised them before the voice -Red- spoke again and derailed her thoughts. Remember what happened to Gotham?

Gotham? Rachel didn't understand, Gotham was fine, Gotham was-- Gotham was under siege. Gotham had been taken over by their Rouges! Gotham had.. had fallen.

No. Red rumbled and it was weirdly in-sync with the earth rumbling stomp that made them stumble in real time. Her legs gave out under her and Jason swore, slinging her over his shoulder none-too-lightly, as he started jogging. Gotham has not yet fallen.

Pain, hot and searing, shot up her side from where her suit felt wet. Had she been injured?

A long time ago. Red said, closer and louder now. It made no move to elaborate so Rachel dived back into her memories to find out what had happened.

The Dark Nights had arrived. Their portal was opened. The Trinity were missing and Gotham was under siege. Under siege by a familiar face - the Joker and Batman in one.

The Batman Who Laughs.

He'd given their Rouges cards... Cards which changed physics and made anything possible. Riddler had created a maze, Poison Ivy a forest, Bane a fighting ring, Mr Freeze a icen wonderland. The list went on.

They had been pushed to the first ring of Gotham, the one where civilians still roamed with monsters of all shapes, colours and sizes chasing after them, intent on sucking their soul out of them and sending their bodies up to the Mountain, to power The Sinking.

Go on.

It had been eighteen hours--

A day. Red interrupted. Rachel stumbled mentally. It had been twenty-four hours since Barbatos had appeared and they -the Bat Family- were Gotham's only line of defense still standing. Most people were dead, having either been caught in the inital appearances of the creatures or having been murdered by their card-enhanced Rouges.

Gotham was inches away from falling.

There's more. Red urged.

And... Rachel couldn't remember. She couldn't remember. There was more? They had been hiding out on the rooftops, watching bitterly as civilains fell because they had no way to help them. Rachel didn't--

"C'mon, baby, stay with me." Jason tapped her cheek. They were in some building. She was on the ground. It was cold. She was cold. Rachel blinked. She felt tired, hazy... as if she was recovering from the high pitched adrenaline of doing something hair-raisingly stupid.

"Is she alright?" That was Babs. Babs. She was still alive, well and standing in front of her. Well, she was crouching in the corner, looking raggled. Still, she was alive. Rachel blinked again, trying to wash away the distant blur that rested over her head. She couldn't think straight.

"Does she look it?" Stephanie. She sounded annoyed. Irritated. Rachel didn't understand, her side hurt and she just wanted everything to stop. She wanted to understand.

"She is confused." Cass. "And injured."

Jason popped back into Rachel's view and she wondered when he'd left it. He had rolled up bandages in his hand. Why did he have bandages? She couldn't see Tim or Duke. Where were they? And Damian, where was Dami?

"What d'ya remember, Rache?" She stared at him. Nothing other than the apparent basics. She didn't rememb--

"Don't be stupid, Jason. She got slammed into a wall with some six-month old injury opening up, I don't remember her hitting her head too badly." Barbara scowled, seemingly beside her now. She tugged her suit's shirt up and Rachel stared blankly at the gaping jagged slash there. It looked like she'd been stabbed. She'd been slammed into a wall?

"Guys-" Cass tried but Jason overlapped her. Rachel's gaze flickered to her but then her head drooped and everything went staticy.

"Well, 'xcuse me for tryin' t'be the responsible one, Miss Know-It-All." Jason hissed back, shoving the bandages at Babs. She put them in her belt, momentarily, to keep them clean.

Rachel felt hands tug at her. Babs. It was Babs. "Can you sit up on your knees, R? I need to bandage this, we don't have any thread or needles."

She was pulled up to rest her weight on her knees and for a second she somehow stayed upright by herself. Babs let go, moving back to pick up the banadges she'd stuffed in her belt for a moment, and Rachel lilted forward.

Jason caught her and pulled her into his lap, "Fuck. Right. What d'ya remember, R? Hmm, baby?"

She shook her head. "Don't.. can't.." She whined. Her head hurt.

"That's fine, sweetie." Jason rumbled. It was calm and her messed up head latched onto that last piece of comfort. "Y'remember the bit where monsters are walkin' around the place, wantin' t'suck the life outta ya?"

Rachel hummed softly. "An... And Bat Who Laughs..."

"Yeah." Jason added, tone recognisably bitter even through her haze. "An' him."

"Basically, long story short," Stephanie jutted in as Babs sighed and stared awkwardly wrapping the bandages around her midsection, frowning at the amount of blood. "We were camping out on a pretty high roof when this monster thing jumps onto it too, about a few metres away from us. And it just stands there for a good few seconds and before we can even think about standing up or even attacking, it's huge-ass tongue shoots out and grabs Tim and then Duke and swallows them. Fucking swallows them, R. Right?"

"And we were gonna attack it but then two more jumped up behind us, god only knows how they even made it to the top of a twelve story building without alerting any of us, and started reaching for Cass and you. Cass got out of the way of hers but your one made its arms go all slimey and it hit you." Steph made a sickening crunch sound, joined with one hand getting hit with the other and the first one being pushed violently back. "You went straight into some little greenhouse thing they had up there on the roof and like, I'm pretty sure you blacked out because you didn't get up. Then... Like, another long story short, we managed to push the monsters over the edge of the roof and Jason goes over to to you and finds you're bleeding from that stab wound that dude Deathwing gave you, like, six months ago. Then, the building just happens to collapse from under us because the monsters are slamming at the walls."

Barbara sighed and took over, pulling the bandages a tad tighter. "Thankfully, we were all okay but you were still out of it so when we made it out onto the street, Cass, Steph and I distracted them while Jay got you to the nearest safe looking house. It turned out to be this old dump."

Rachel felt numb. Duke and Tim were gone. Forever. God. "..Dami?"

Jason huffed, he sounded lighter when he spoke so she took that as a good sign. "With the Titans. Kid went off straight after the trip through the Amazon. Remember?"

She briefly remembered saying goodbye and telling him to stay in one piece. He'd tt-ched at her and left smirking, making a remark about how he was the best and how he obviously couldn't die. Rachel wondered how he was doing.

"Done." Babs said and sat up. "Please don't bleed through those, they're all we've got left. Duke had a lot of medical supplies in his suit that we were riding on before so we don't have much..."

Now that she wasn't bleeding out anymore, Jason hefted her up into his lap more as he settled against the cold, cement wall. She sagged against him, head lolling onto his shoulder as everything caught up to her. God, she was tired.

Everyone seemed tense, something she hadn't noticed before between the considerably worse headache and blurriness. It was better now but the headache was still pounding away at her, feeling like something was trying to dig into her brain.

And Timmy and Duke were dead. She didn't know what to feel. Bruce. Bruce would get the metal, he would get it and fix everything. He had to.

He would.

Barbara waved her hand in front of her face. "I need to to follow my fingers, R. Then you can do what you want. Okay?"

She got a hum in response. Barbara's finger trailed from the top left to middle right, then to top right to bottom left. She ended with a smooth back and forth motion that Rachel followed perfectly.

Barbara grinned crookedly at her and nodded, "Congrats, Rachel! You won't die if you fall asleep this glorious night."

On that somber note, Barbara edged along the wall and slumped down it, pulling out her own emergency blanket like everyone else had. Just as Rachel wondered if Jason's was still intact his hands reached around and pulled out her blanket. He flapped it out with her still ontop of him (no doubt, an awkward and hard task) and gently laid it on her, thus him too.

"Can't let ya freeze t'death, now can we, baby?" He murmured softly. Rachel smiled weakly, turning her head just enough to kiss the side of his neck.

"So, what are we gonna do tomorrow?" Stephanie asked quietly, her voice already fading as Rachel's eyes drooped.

"We've got a basic idea of where we are so I think we should go pay Nygma a visit-"

"You think so? Do we even know where the door to his ring is-"

"Yeah... North-East, around the fifth block-"

Everything grew muted and Rachel's breathing evened out as she snuggled her cold nose into Jason's neck.

-/-/-

Oliver doesn't know what to think of Gotham. Firstly, it was surrounded by huge walls in the shape of rings, separating it into parts. Then, if that wasn't weird enough, it had been.. mutated after an energy storm.

The said energy storm had drew him there, maybe in hopes of finding some heroes still around or maybe in some desperate attempt to get together with the best detective family currently alive in their world. Or possibly it was to keep his silent, hushed promise to Bruce about protecting Damian.

Oliver doesn't know anymore. What he does know, is that he doesn't care. Not when Damian is about to be drowned in blood that's rushing out an open doorway.

So he does what every other good man would do and fires a grappling arrow down to the kid because he's confident he can pull Damian up onto the ledge where he's currently residing if he holds into the rope. "Grab hold!"

The kid, panicking and coughing blood that isn't his own out of his mouth (eww, Oliver is glad he didn't open that door), grabs onto the rope and Oliver tugs him up. There's a spilt second where it looks like the kid is relieved before he lays eyes on him and his possibly grateful smirk turns into a scowl.

"What are you doing here, Queen?" The kid growls, looking impressively like a puffed up tiger. Oliver doesn't know why he's the one the kid's angry at. If anything, he just saved him from being washed down the corridor by a tidal wave of blood. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Where, Robin?" He asks, shoving a finger into the kids chest. "Star City is gone, wiped from the map much like the other Cities, I came here after I heard about that freak energy storm hoping that there were some heroes left!"

Damian seems very shocked by this and opens and closes his mouth three times in a show that amuses Oliver. That is, until the huge spikey metal ball thing slams inbetween them and the kid seizes the moment and turns tail and sprints.

Oliver sighs and resigns himself to his fate, following after what has to be Batman's rudest kid yet. (Which is quite a feat since more than two of Bruce's kids have been declared insane at one point or another.)

Somewhere along the line they run into Harley Quinn and Killer Croc, who deal with some dead Batman nightmare-zombie thing. They say something about not wanting their home turf to fall so Oliver supiciously lets them join their little crusade. It's for the firepower, he tells himself. Definitely not because the brat's face lit up at the sight of familiar faces. Oliver has never before had to say (never has he even thought it would happen) that he was outranked by a supervillain in terms of friendship. Everyday is called a new day for a reason apparently.

Riddler shows up at the exit door, just when Oliver is getting hyped about leaving this weird maze thing, in some robotic suit that looks like that bull demon thing that attacked Percy Jackson before he got into Camp Halfblood (because, yes, Oliver read that book... and maybe watched the movie too). It was called a minotaur, right?

Turns out they have to figure out a riddle, like 'yay'. Oliver grunts and takes to unloading his quiver on the robot while Robin susses out what is what. The kid says the answer, which how is it even an answer? N? Really? And throws something at the robot which makes it collapse into a pile of scrap parts. Oliver doesn't question it too much as Damian pulls Riddler out of the rubble and starts shaking him, asking where Batman is.

Something he does question though: who the hell decided to turn the place into that snow blizzard that Kylo Ren had to walk through that one time in that really old Star Wars movie. (Well, he thinks it was Kylo Ren. He's not too sure. In his own defence, it was an old movie.)

Oliver focuses on not having his fingers drop off while Damian scans the area, leading the charge with confident words and a bleeping red arrow pointing on his gauntlet display pointing towards the source of the distress signal he's picked up. A rushed glance towards Quinn and Croc find them both rubbing their arms in an effort to stay warm (yes, even Croc because this is one cold blizzard). Oliver shoots Damian a look and wonders if he's extremely warm blooded or something.

The kid suddenly stops and Oliver stumbles as he hurries to stop himself from walking into him.

"What's up kid?" He says.

Or rather, that's what he meant to say. Instead, at that very moment he spots a rather frost-giant looking ice monster hovering over a very familiar red insignia'd black kevlared suit and all that comes out is a rather eloquent. "Wha..?"

His gauntlet's holographic arrow turned black to signify they were less than half a mile away from the signal's source. Oliver's mouth dried.

Damian reacts immediately, that is, if you take out the few seconds they all spent gaping at the scene like new boy scouts wondering how to start a fire. Robin charges, war cry already on his tongue when Croc barrels past him and full-body slams the ice giant that looks like it fell straight out of Norse mythology.

It's safe to say that that certain ice giant won't be bothering them again anytime soon. Oliver doesn't say that though, as he's already running towards the worryingly still Nightwing.

The guards on his knees protect them from the hard snow as he skids along it, bending over Rachel. A quick pulse check shows it's strong and steady, if just slightly quick but that could be normal. Oliver latches onto that assessment and goes with it. Normal. She's still breathing anyway and judging from the rather big black patch on the snow, he deduces Rachel is (definitely) injured and bleeding out. She's also unconscious.

A few light slaps across her cheek has Rachel's eyelids fluttering and a third has her opening them. Her mask's white eyes stare at them all blankly as Oliver pulls out a bundle of bandages he surprisingly has and uses the thicker gauze to apply pressure to her wound. She's already got bandages there, barely peaking through past her shoddily tied together (previously ripped) suit's shirt and Hood's hastily slung-on jacket but they are there.

Oliver doesn't want to risk anything getting anything into the wound so he jumpily ties the rest of the bandage around her suit, leaving the jacket free as Damian speaks in hushed but strong tones to his elder sister. It's best to stop her from bleeding out first rather than worrying about redressing it. They can do that later, when their hands aren't going numb from the cold.

Damian asks something that sounds a lot like "And where is everyone else?"

Rachel shakes her head as Oliver sits back. The bandages are done, they just have to hope they'll last. It's not the bandages that Oliver is worrying about though, it's Rachel. He can't imagine what's happened to have her singled out in the middle of Snowville without the rest of the Bat Clan.

Rachel's croaked words answer his fears. "Only.. only me 'n Hood left." She says, hand slumping out to keep herself upright. Immediately, Damian pulls her over to him for something to lean on. She sags worryingly into him. "Tim 'n Duke caugh' bya m'nster. BB 'n Spoiler got caugh' in the maze.. Batwom'n caugh' by'a.. ice gian'."

She sounds terrible. Slurring words so bad if Oliver hadn't known Rachel was immune to pain killers, he would've assumed she was high on them. And she can't be drunk. Not here, not now. (Says who? Hisses a voice.) The only thing left on the list is extreme pain.

His gut turns restlessly. Quinn and Croc have silently taken up guard watch and for that he is, at least, thankful. "Where's Red Hood now, Nightwing?"

Rachel blinks slowly, falling more into Damian. "...I.. I don'.." She trails off and Oliver's heart pangs for her in sympathy.

Harley speaks up suddenly, "Oi! We gotta figure on the horizon, Mr Arrow, whadda we do?"

"Yeah.." Croc rumbles. "Lookin' lot like Red Hood."

Damian and Rachel perk up at that, the latter less aware than the former but still conscious. Oliver actually wonders how much pain she's in to be this out of it.

He doesn't think he'll like the answer so he doesn't ask.

"That does indeed look like Hood." Damian says pointedly. Oliver decides to look around in time to see the black - and red bat insignia and helmeted - figure running in a abyss of white. The flash of an icey blue gives away the hulking figure behind him before they even see the ice giant's silhouette.

He curses, "And that sure looks like one of those ice giants behind him!"

Panic sets in as they realise Hood's not stopping and Oliver scrambles to get Rachel on her feet.

"Just a little walk." He mutters, trying to help her as she moans pittifully and nearly collapses once he's got her up. Oliver hopes she hasn't bled through the second layer of bandages yet.

Jason waves awkwardly at Croc, shouting hurriedly, "Croc! Old buddy, old pal! How ya been! You don't think you could-?" He motions meaningfully to the giant ice sculpture still giving chase behind him.

Croc huffs, "Just this once Croc help Hood."

Jason skids to a stop just as the ice giant explodes into pieces under Croc's charge. He flips the helmet's faceplate up and smirks at Oliver before the archer moves around an inch and shows him Rachel, barely on her feet and looking ten times too pale. Instantly he's frowning, looking more worried than Oliver has ever seen Bruce's first Robin look.

"Shit, 'Wing." He says, pulling her into his arms where she mumbles something against his neck. Jason's face darkens before he hoists Rachel up onto his hip (because the woman is surprisingly light - far too light if you ask Oliver) and nods to both him and Damian.

"Thanks, GA." He says and lets his faceplate slide closed with a automic hiss. He motions for Damian to apporach him with his one free hand and when the kid does he pulls him into a one armed hug. "God, kid, good t'see ya in one piece."

Damian tt-ches and tries to play off the raw emotion on his face. "Like I would go back on my promise to Nightwing."

Jason laughs, the sound distorted by his voice modifier into something echoing and dark. "Of course, brat." He nods to Oliver as Damian pulls away, grumbling about something. "Really, thanks Ollie. Don't know what I would'a done if I hadda came back t'no-one."

The other man sounds sincere so Oliver takes his word for it and spares him a sharp grin. He pulls his hood over his head more as the cold bites at him. "I'll accept your thanks when we're in a warmer place."

Jason grinned.

-/-/-

"Croc found birdie!" Croc shouts from somewhere ahead of them. It's cold and Harley can barely see Hood where he's holding Nightwing a few feet to the right of her. How Croc found a bird in this total whiteout she doesn't know. "Stone birdie!"

And well, that explains a little more towards why he seen it (he probably walked into it in the first place) but less towards the what.

"What sort of bird?" Robin shouts over the gale of the frozen winds. Harley's not sure what temperature people start to contract hypothermia at anymore, she can't quite remember, but she's pretty sure they're either damn close to it or way over it.

"Uhh.." Croc pauses and Harley can practically see him scratching his tilted head while staring at the little statue of an owl. Oh- she actually can. Because she's beside him.

"It'sa statue 'f one 'f those owls." She says, hefting her hammer onto her shoulder. The rest of their makeshift gang rolls up and she shrugs. "Y'know, tha' Court 'f Owls?"

"The Court?" Hood asks, voice deep due to his helmet. Nightwing looks up bleakly. The woman's pale even compared to the blizzard that rages around them. Harley pushes down the brief worry that digs itself out of the woodwork for the other woman and turns back towards the statue.

"Why do'ya think it's here?" She asks just as the green archer dude taps its beak. There's a mechanical chink before the ground falls out from under them. Harley whoops in sudden excited glee as the others scream.

He'd betrayed her.

Jason had betrayed Rachel.

And it wasn't in fucking past tense.

He'd broken his promise, that one thing he promised when they first started into their awkward relationship, promised in the early days, when they were both fumbling around the ideals of the world and buckling under what society's norms were. Later, when they worked past that stage of not knowing what they were, of not knowing whether to call their little song and dance a relationship or some stupid farce. Later, after all that, she'd made him promise to never leave her. He'd promised and she had murmured the broken words of joy ans acceptance onto fragmented, corroded skin in the way that just made everything that bit more realistic.

Because they were both broken, both pushed past their limits. Thrust into a world where they did not know what to name the setting sun. Rachel was an insane assassin and that very group's Queen, and he was nothing more than a dead man walking the plane of life. She was technically immortal and he, powered through their world with the rage of the Lazarus Pit in his veins, a zombie in his own right. Their minds were twisted with alien ideals yet their hearts still worked if you pushed the right buttons.

Panic attacks were a common occurrence with their little world of (probable) undiagnosed PTSD. They lurked around the corners, Rachel had a terribly common trigger of other people's blood. It was the redness, she said but Jason knew better. Jason knew why it hurt her so much, what she'd done to survive. He didn't hold it against her for he had no reason to, there was no disgust or bitterness there because he was a street kid. He had been a worthless street rat before Bats found him, stealing the Batmobile's tyres to try and stay alive. There was no room for the stupidity most humans allowed to seep into their lives and control them. Not in this life, nor the next.

(Jason's blood was tinted with an odd green stripe in it. Rachel didn't get set off by that. Oddly enough.)

The nightmares were what his head came back to haunt him in. That deadly night was replayed like a broken record player screeching out the same tune over and over again. That cold lonely night of being locked in that warehouse, broken and unable to do anything as the bomb's timer ticked down menacingly slowly.

With his eyes green and his blood having a tinge of it, he had no time to dwell over the sudden pain the colour brought him. He'd pushed the panic down and charged onwards into the world.

Jason had been ecstatic when Rachel had mentioned she thought she was pregnant. Not only because she had been previously labelled unable, infertile thanks to the serum that made her her, but because this was a chance. A new chance at life, he'd promised to never be like Willis from the day the mob took him down, from the day there was no drunken, slurring father to beat him into the scruffy rat-and-moth-and-god-knows-what-else-eaten floorboards. That was the third promise he'd ever made and intended to keep. (Not exactly in chronological order, mind you.)

The first was saying he'd protect Rachel. He'd held her hand when that brief flash of uncertainty had hit her as they gripped the pregnancy test together, cupped in one large calloused hand and in another small, lithe scarred one. They were an odd couple, people said. But that was what made it so much fun. So exhilarating for them to stand by each other, to shout at each other like every good couple did, to spar, to have sex and everything in between. At first Jason had stuck around because Rachel intrigued him, he barely knew anything of the woman from his meek stay at the manor and her shifty nature. He'd stuck around because he wanted to know what made her her, later, after fighting side by side, getting blackout drunk more than once and having Roy catch them at it, that thirst for knowledge had turned into adoration.

He'd hung about because he loved her true laugh, the light happiness to it that seemed to light up a room, he became infatuated with the way she walked into a room, all pride and power yet cunning swiftness that she used to her advantage.

Jason became addicted to the way her hair shone in the soft Malaysian sun, the way her brows scrunched up in annoyance when they ventured into Russia in the middle of one of its coldest winter in centuries. He loved the way she offered a soft smile as he gave her his jacket, even as his limbs froze, couldn't help the bubble of joy and utter love that bubbled up in his chest as she snuggled up to his side in bed, as she smirked that knowing smirk she'd stolen from Alfred, as she actually let the first emotion other than bliss and calculated blankness cross her face.

He remembers their first kiss, soft yet deviant in a way only they understood, the unspoken meaning and emotion in it that they transferred from one another, the deep near-silenced recognisable thrum that hovered within them both, bones still aching and minds still weary from the deep of the night, from the horrors they had both seen. Lingering shadows of which they both understood and sometimes gave in to.

Jason, simply put, loved Rachel from the moment he seen her in that bar in eastern Europe. He let that spark light and grow bigger as they stayed around each other and eventually he was in so deep not even an argument that had his guns blowing up and her swords snapping to attention could break. They became one in the literal sense, they were a criminal duo as well as legal siblings that weren't really siblings. They fought as one and they won as one, they stood together to the point where even the superhero community picked up on the fact that Red Hood and Nightwing were not to be messed with when one or the other were in the other's immediate vicinity. Which was always.

It saved a lot of hassle, except for that one time some wacko-crazy dude had tried to kidnap them both while they were floundering about in Hong Kong, let's just say that guy couldn't stand for a year because of two very sore legs that may or may not've been put into casts. One with a boot-shaped bruise over it and the other with claw-shaped scratches criss-crossing it so horribly that would surely scar.

Rachel became the moon and he became the stars, except they were always in orbit so that had to make him the earth, right? But neither of them were grounded enough to be rocky planets so maybe they fit somewhere as a gas planet with its own orbiting star.

Rachel had been wrecked when, after Hurst and Deathwing, the pregnancy test came back negative. Jason had felt his world shake for a good hour even as he held the sobbing woman he loved no matter what to his chest, muttering inanities about how it was alright, they could try again, it would work out. That didn't stop her tears from carving a hole, as deep and wide as the equator, into his chest.

Still, that didn't stop a stunted week of silence and hissed warnings to each other where everyone cast them worried looks, wondering what had happened and why the bags under their eyes were worse than ever.

And Jason definitely did not cry when Rachel retreated from his arms on cold nights, when she shuffled over to the side of the bed that was hers and so rarely used because she practically slept on-top of him most nights. He didn't curl in on himself, calloused hands tracing the scars left from a certain clown and a crowbar. If anything he pretended everything was alright the next day, despite the way Rachel's shoulders had shook for most of the night in the way that meant she was crying but holding it all back. He pretended his heart wasn't feeling as hollow as his eyes.

It was actually Duke who snapped them out of their funk. He'd levelled one unimpressed frown at Jason when they'd slumped through the Manor's front door one day, silence stifling in a choking way, only to find the latest kid was the only current inhabitant of the huge-ass Wayne Manor.

Of course, Duke had grinned and acted as normal around Rachel, telling her to walk into the kitchen because they were baking today and "yes, Rachel, there are no excuses." Jason had pretended not to feel intimidated in the slightest as the kid stretched up to his full height, such a shock from his usual slumped back that usually brought him down from an amazing 6"1 to a meek 5"11. He pretended to not feel his chest hurt when the kid hissed at him, asking if he could see what was happening, growling that while Duke himself may not know what was happening or has happened but the way Jason's shrunk back is just answer enough. In the end, Duke leaves him alone there, standing out in the hallway feeling like he's just killed the boy's beloved puppy even though he doesn't have one.

He makes it up to Rachel later, when Duke has mysteriously disappeared since ten minutes ago and doesn't seem to be coming back. Rachel doesn't seem to notice or care as she sits, back slumped and eyes dead as she single-mindedly taps her fingers on her thighs. He makes it up to her by talking about it, and "yes Rache, I can actually apologise." 

And he does it, with Rachel sitting there, listening silently as he talks and talks because god he's been a dickhead. Such a dickhead.

If he squeezes her and holds her tighter, warmer, than he has ever that night in bed when she lies beside him, silent with that question of, why are you still with me after everything on her lips. She doesn't mention it if he silently cries either. Doesn't do anything but kiss him as she wipes the tears away. Doesn't do anything but hum as he explains all the little reasons he loves her and tells her he loves her anyway, he'll love her even if she gets amnesia and forgets, he'll love her if she dies and he'll love her despite what everyone says. He says he'll always love her and that, he believes with the furious vengeance that the Pit bestowed upon him. He holds that one little truth close to his heart, relishes in it, as times grow darker. But then, there and then, he just lies there and blabbers on about things he can't even form words for anymore.

His world brightens abruptly, suddenly, as Rachel laughs at the stupid little reasons and nuzzles his wrist in a way that makes his heart soar. 

"I love you too, you big idiot," she says and settles down for sleep in that cute way she only does with him, eyes fluttering shut, arms reaching around him for a hug that he returns and keeps through the night even as his own arms ache from the straining but well-known position. He sleeps better that night than he has in the past few weeks.

Because Rachel has always been an angel in the dark. She's always been there for him and as much as he tries to stand by her, he always fucks up. It's always him, never her, him.

Because he's Jason Todd and he fucks things up.

It's why now, months later, they're currently fighting for freedom, because he left Rachel behind, didn't see when she needed help, pushed that flicker of worry down as the darkness grew in her eyes and focused on other things, like the stab wound she wasn't supposed to be bleeding out from but was. Ignored her silent pleas for help, the buckling of her legs because she was tired from holding the weight up on her shoulders, because she didn't have the strength, ignored her cold wet tears late at night, pushing them down assuming the wound hurt and saying they'd be fine, that they would make it. He focused in on their dwindling family and her wound and left out Rachel's mental state like the fucking scumbag he is.

"No one is perfect." Damian says suddenly, tattered cape flickering in the light of firefights, drenched in thick oozing blood that is not his own. They've been working through Barbatos' armies for over a good hour now and Jason's pretty sure the wetness down his back he feels isn't from his sweat or his blood. He's pretty sure it's from all these sick demented bastard's heads he's punched a bullet into, all these assholes who have one of his bullets down their throat because he's fucking done. He's pretty sure it's their blood that slithers down his back, the feeling annoying and oh, so reminding, that it pushes him onwards to kill as many as possible.

Because damn if he'll lose.

He's not putting up with this bullshit anymore and it's an unspoken agreement between the two last members of the Bat Clan that when they get the chance they're finding Rachel because she's the silent backbone, she's the steeling, grounding sword strapped onto their megazord's back. She's Rachel. They can't leave her here. Jason won't lose her. Not this way, like they lost everyone else. She's the only other one of their little crew that's still alive and they'll be damned if they fucking leave and forget about her.

It's five minutes later, three hundred agonising seconds past, that he realises what the brat has said.

"What makes you think that?" He shouts as he unloads a carefully measured round into a line of soldier's heads. Damian is behind him, making it easier to talk to him over the wails of screams and warcries, kicking around the soldiers like a professional badass Bat.

"We are human," The boy says and Jason wonders when the kid got so wise. "We all are."

And Jason doesn't know what to say to that.

So he pummels another round into some twisted Lantern's head and snaps his neck because why the fuck not.

-/-/-

Bruce surveys the wreckage of his City from where they all are. At the top of the mountain where he, Diana and Clark stand. Diana is busy sending out orders, do this, if not then do that, but Bruce is in no position to care.

His children, Alfred too - his family, are gone. Gone like a furious gust of wind washing the swift autumn leaves from the Manor's trees down the drive way. Clark had said two, Jason and Damian, were left and he just has to hope they've stuck it out this far.

The steel in his back is there, the resolve and determination that keeps his back straight. The hope, once thought lost, that pushes him onwards burns an angry hole in his gut as the screams reach even them, as far up the mountain as they are.

He'll fix this.

First he needs to find the remains of his family. He needs to find them.

The task proves easier than he had thought as one of the Joker dragons appear. A brutal punch, driven by anger and fear, has it bellowing and lowering enough for him to get on it's neck.

The wind soars through his being, cutting like the sharp edge of a certain three of his children's swords. The reminder hurts and doubled with the nonexistent heaviness of his 10th Metal armour he almost closes his eyes against his better judgement. A flash of an all too familiar sword and the bang, bang, bang of a range of guns meet his senses and his eyes are snapping open just in time for him to push the dragon down into a spiral, it's underbelly scraping the ground as it flings foe and earth alike away.

Jason whistles, helmet-less and tattered looking, when the dust clears and he can drop his arm. Looking and acting for the world like nothing is at all odd about this. Like nothing is disturbing him.

"Ah'll get Rache, Big Man. Ya focus on the crazy wanna-be-you, yeah?"

Bruce grunts, gleaming Element X armour shining as it's blown in the heavy gusts that whoosh down the Mountain's side. The shields around the hollowed out cave will dispel the energies that keep the armour in their realm momentarily, meaning it'll disappear as soon as they enter. Jason won't hold it to Bruce if they pause for one last moment of comaderie as Bruce relishes in his armour's weight for one last time (because neither of them expect to walk away from this in one piece, they'll find Rachel and try to save her but that doesn't guarante a free win). For a second Jason wonders if the sun will come out from behind the clouds that swallow it, for that classic last moment of solitude before the end.

They aren't awarded the pleasure nor the honour.

Jason pretends he doesn't care as he readies himself.

As one, trained together and having experienced many the same, they stalk into the predator's lair. They've done shit like this before, they know what they're doing. They know how to hunt those who think they are hunting them. They also know how advanced Rachel's senses can be when she wants them to be.

Which is why it's no surprise when Rachel appears in front of them, both swords primed and gleaming as she grinds to a frozen stop inches away from them.

Jason's chest lights up in adrenaline as pain bloom in his heart, not because of injury but because of how she looks.

She looks nothing like his Rachel.

Her now fully black eyes are surrounded by black war paint, dashed on splotchily and insistent like that was the way it was meant to be done, it makes her look like she has no eyes. She no longer wears her filthy and torn Nightwing suit, now boasting a beautiful black dress that pulled and showed where it felt necessary. It would've been a slightly normal dress (albeit slightly gothic and weirdly Dark Souls 3-ish, he says that with Yuria of Yonder in mind), had it not've had sharp and very real spikes wrapping around her neck, arms, the end frill of the skirt and around her waist. This way - Jason was willing to bet money on the statement - it looked way more dangerous than Yuria's ever had, even without the helmet.

The dull, gunmetal grey armour around her neck stretched to cover her shoulders and the top of her chest as well as joining the spikes that enswined around her. It was intricately designed in an old swirling pattern that reminded Jason of flowers.

Her arms, covered by black sleeves, morphed into gauntleted hands of armour unhindered by the spikes.

Black, obviously spiked, combat boots completed the draconian look with the last seven inches (from her mid back to below her ass) of her long black hair having been dyed a noticable grey.

This woman looked nothing like Rachel.

Nothing.

"Hello," She giggled, face splitting in a teeth gnawing grin, her voice sounding oddly giggly and too damn happy. A great contrast from her new and 'improved' outfit. "You have no idea how long we've been waiting for you, Jason."

Jason's head stutters on her words as his gut twists in jealousy and anger as the Batman Who Laughs appears. He grins at Bruce tauntingly, ignoring Jason completely, once he rests his bleached hand on Rachel's armoured shoulders.

"How are you, Brucie?" He cooes, laughing bitterly. His lips stretch out in some form of a welcoming smile that just has too much insanity in it to be kind.

Jason doesn't - can't, he can't - breathe as the Laughing Bruce cackles and charges Their Bruce, pushing him back, he doesn't do anything but grimace as Bruce gives him a knowing nod as they vanish through some secret doorway in the wall. Jason needs a hellova lot of prompting to turn to Rachel,  what he doesn't need prompting for is dodging her (shockingly unhindered by the dress) spin kick that would've lost him his head.

"Surrender," She cackles, unruly pure black eyes glinting with something akin to glee as he steadies himself and stands to his full daunting height. Her eyes (he thinks at least, they seem to move) trail down appreciatively and she grins wider. "Perhaps I'll let you stand by me in the end, if you do."

Jason grinds his teeth down so hard he's sure he's about to crack a tooth. "Shut it."

One of his revolvers find her forehead in a stroke of luck that he's not meant to get and on impulse he fires. Because Rachel wouldn't want this. She would never want to kill her loved ones like this, being controlled by her own fucking goddamn blood.

Rachel drops, back hitting the wall as she stumbles back and collapses in the narrow corridor. Her head drops and in seconds the black blood pools around her like a puddle as it drips down and wets her dress. Her chest stutters with a gasping breath before it stills.

Two thoughts hit him at once:

The first; well, tha' was fast.

The second; wha' tha fuck?

He hesitates before kneeling down in front of her, setting his revolvers down on his left as he catches her chin with his right hand and pulls her head up. Jason knows his girlfriend's (soon to be something else) strength better than most so he has a right to be cautious as he taps her cheek.

Her eyes are shut, unflickering, even as the blood dribbles down over her right one and gushes down her cheek like black, rotten tears. The bullet hole in her head makes him feel sick as he processes what's happened.

But this isn't meant to happen. Rachel is not meant to die in some damp, lonely cave with Bruce and Evil-Bruce scuffling in the opposite room and his bullet in her fucking head. Not when that date is set, not when they're going to become one in a couple of weeks. Not now.

Rachel always heals. She always has and as much as she enjoys playing dead for the upper hand Jason has never known her to play dead with a head shot. Always, with a head shot she jumps to life, literally, coughing and scowling as she rolls her neck in that annoyed way of hers. Rachel doesn't play dead when things like this happen, she doesn't let him think she's dead for too long-  unless--

Rachel's eyes snap open too quick for Jason to react. She grins at him and he digests what colour her eyes are as he jumps back from where he's crouched inches away from her.

Her eyes are black.

Still black.

There's a tint of red in them though, and that makes him growl.

Blood red.

Red.

He knows what this means, he knows what to do. Red will take over Rachel in the blink of an eye. She seeps in through the tiniest crack in R's defensive and latches on and grows. Like weeds do, really.

The thing (she, Rachel says yet she still refers to 'her' as it) is as annoying as weeds are, so Jason sees no need to differentiate.

Jason fully understands what happens when you punch someone's head into a brick wall, he's done it many a time. A concussion possibly, shooting pain that feels like your head is splitting apart at the seams at the least. But a stone wall? Nevertheless a naturally strong stone wall that's a mountain's insides?

He's sure it'll hurt.

Rachel - Red, he reminds himself - sure screams like it does.

Jason pushes down both the surging panic and the guilt and the screaming protective feeling at hearing, nevermind seeing (and causing), Rachel in pain and screaming. This has to be done. Red is only disoriented by Rachel herself becoming disoriented, which means she either gets knocked around the head or has to be out matched in physical expertise.

Jason knows he's fit for his age but Rachel, even for being barely but skin and bone, is hella fit. She can run five times longer than him on her bad days. She can do the Salmon Ladder quicker than he can say go get 'em. She can kill a man with nothing but a teaspoon in less than a second, no thought involved.

That's not even including her Talon aided strengths. She can run quicker than Barry Allen (though everyone knows that, she still lets the man keep the title for Fastest Man Alive because he's a man and it's technically not incorrect), her sense of smell is almost as good as - if not better than - Clark's and her agility and flexibility outweighs Cass's by a long shot. (Jason should know about that last one. God.) And her healing, as shown, heals her from a killing wound in less than a minute.

Don't even ask about her eyesight (though she does need reading glasses for reading things up close, but that's the only exception). Her eyesight is godly. Fucking ridiculous if you ask Jason.

Basically when she feels like it, Rachel can be as badass as a god with no strings attached. He's pretty sure he got the short end of the stick in that deal.

No one out matches Rachel when she's going all out. (She's not even gone all out yet, Jason can't let it get to that point or he's dead.)

The bullet wound hasn't sealed yet, her  blood is still oozing slowly out of it, and Jason wonders why. The bullet is out, it's lying bloody on the floor for a point. There's no reason for Rachel to not be healing fully.

"I'll kill her," The rasping voice of Red whispers cruelly. "I'll kill you first and make her watch, I'll bathe in your blood while she screams and begs for mercy. I can already taste the hopelessness inside of her."

Jason grunts and pummels his gloved fist into Red's solar plexus.

Red chokes, collapsing into his fist as the air rushes out of her lungs. She snarls up at him, shaking, as she spits out blood. "I'll kill you, bastard!"

Jason rolled his eyes, hidden by his domino. Still, it moved and gave off the feeling of amusement. "Sure you will, bitch."

The black was nearly all gone, the last of it lingering around the edges of her sclera as her irises flooded red. Her pupils narrowed in hatred as she sucked in another desperate gulp of air. The bullet wound finally closed as it healed. Jason frowned, for such a small cut (usually this stuff didn't even faze R yet this time she took at least five minutes to heal fully) it shouldn't have taken that long.

"Oi," He growled, pressing his revolver's barrel against her forehead exactly where the wound had been. She jerked and hissed as his hand closed around her neck threateningly. Suddenly the line of blood drawling down half her face wasn't too intimidating. "Why the fuck'd it take you so long to heal?"

Red snarled, lips curling up angrily. "What's it to you?"

"Tha woman you're controllin' is gonna be my wife next week, I think it's got a lot t'do with me." Jason hissed back. His fuse was shortening and the shouts echoing around the cave from the two other currently missing men were getting on his nerves.

Red made a confused face as she leant back, head tapping off the mountain face. "What?"

"Ya don't know?" He growled. "Doesn't Rachel talk t'ya practically ev'ryday?"

"Ahh..." She hesitated. He squeezed his hand and Red gasped, "Rachel has been out of my reach for the past few weeks."

Now that surprised Jason. He grunted for her to continue as he loosened his hand enough for her to breath easier.

"I-" Red swallowed, sucking in a shaky breath before speaking quieter than before. "I think it's due to the amount of dark matter in this world.. It- It's messing with our blood, the electrum in it is thousands of years old and has never interacted with much out of our world. It would make sense for these drastic side effects."

"Side effects?"

"...Yes. The headaches, visions, migraines, feeling as if our blood is burning, slowed healing, nausea, trouble breathing, sensitivity towards light and loud noises, muscles occasionally feeling like they're cramped even though they are not, mood swings, inconsistent and random aching of the limbs... the, uh... the list goes on."

"What the hell?" Jason asked, voice raised. The list Red had rhymed off sounded like one of those lists of possible symptoms for medication or some shit. He was dismayed and hurt that Rache hadn't told him anything other than the visions. "Why didn't she tell me?"

Red shrugged and Jason loosened his hold on her neck. "I am uncertain as to why she did not alert you. Perhaphs due to this wedding I was not informed of, or stress. Rachel has a bad habit of not telling others about her problems when she believes they are under too much stress themselves, despite her own troubles."

Jason grunted and let go completely of Red's neck as he whirled around growling. The corridor was small enough where they'd ended up that he was able to punch the wall.

"Damn it," He hissed. His knuckles burned and his blood dripped from the cuts he'd earned from a sharp edge on the wall. He went to punch it again when a small hand caught his arm.

"Don't," Red said, then quieter, "Please, don't set her off when she awakens."

Jason didn't bother to move as he glared down the wall. Red tapped his bicep before walking in front of him.

"Jason?"

"What?" He turned his glare on her - the thing that was controlling his fiancée's body.

She made a small, sad smile before leaning into his ear, whispering, "I'm sorry, human. Catch her."

Rachel tipped forward, eyes closed and limbs loose. Jason spluttered and only barely managed to catch her before she slid down his chest.

He sighed as he shifted her up into his arms, head on his shoulder, before he settled down with his back against the wall. He couldn't really go after Bruce, the man's nod had said he'd deal with the Laughing-Him. Jason trusted Bruce. Like he trusted Rachel.

He began to rub little circles on Rachel's scalp as she shifted in her sleep. He settled down to wait.

-/-/-

Bruce spared Jason a nod, silently willing his eldest son to understand, before the Batman Who Laughs shoved them both through a hidden doorway in the wall.

The doorway didn't bring them out into a large open spaced room like Bruce had expected it to. Instead bringing them both out onto a seemingly natural (if the smoothness of it meant anything) sloping slide.

The slide was encased by the dark murky walls that widened and narrowed as they pleased meaning the hard walls grazed and bit at his shoulder guards. It must've been around twenty meters long, angled so that they moved quickly down it yet not fast enough that when they shot into an open circular room they didn't break their necks.

Not that Bruce would've minded if the slide off'ed his dark world counterpart.

It was unlikely though. And, true to prediction, it didn't happen.

Bruce grunted as his back twinged, forcing himself into a roll to absorb most of the fall, not that his back hadn't already but still. His hands shot out, gauntleted fingertips grazing the ground as he came to a stop.

The Batman Who Laughs cackled as he himself stuttered to an awkward stop. "Well, well, well." He chattered, grinning. "It seems we've ended up in a bit of a pickle; no way out is there, Brucie Bru?"

Bruce growled low in his throat, truly a dangerous sound, as he scanned the smooth circular room and spotted an odd slot in the side of the wall.

Bingo.

On automatic he whipped out a couple of his batarangs, hiding them in his palm as his cape swallowed his arms from sight. He rumbled, "What is the meaning of this?"

The Bat Who Laughs tilted his head demonically, "Please, BruBru, call me Joker if you must differentiate. And the meaning? Why must there be one?"

Bruce frowned and let it show. Joker-who-was-not-Joker-but-wanted-to-be-called-that pulled out his gun and twirled it around on his finger using the finger guard. He was standing roughly a meter away from the nook which Bruce assumed to be the exit point. This room, as smooth and odd as it was, was not natural. It was man-made which meant there had to be an exit point other than that slide.

"You've went silent, BruBru, got you in a bit of a fizz have I?" Joker brandished his sharp, yellowing teeth in some form of a twisted grin. "Say, BruBru.. let's talk about Rachel, hmm?"

Bruce tuned the insane man out just like he did Two-Face and Joker and all the others. He could get out if he made a full on sprint for the opposite side, Joker could shoot at him, he could play that out, flapping his cape out as he threw the batarangs. A plan. Not solid but it could work.

He didn't have much of a choice at this point.

"...She's quite the daredevil, your Rachel, nothing like Dick was. Nothing. That boy was all about the trapeze when I brought him in, the little darling didn't even mention it. In fact, she's very quiet - deathly quiet, yes - didn't even get a peep out of her as I stitched together that injury of hers."

Bruce sprinted, not running full out but looking as if he was. Just as he'd predicted, Joker's gun reeled up, safety broken off and package fully loaded as he'd boasted earlier when Bruce had mildly tuned hin out. The man still squealed in surprise as he let off a shot. It missed by a narrow, blood-stopping inch. "Hey! You can't leave the party when it's only just starting!"

Bruce changed direction, spinning on his heel and nearly falling into a roll in his haste. His boots clanged against the floor noisily as Joker gritted his teeth and fired a few more shots.

"Hold up, what're you--"

Bruce pounced, cape flying up in the way it was cut to imitate a bat's leathery wings. Joker screamed and yanked out a knife, skimming his chin shallowly as he went in for the kill.

The Batman Who Laughs was left lying in a bleeding heap on the floor, sickeningly yellow blood swarming around him like ugly, angry Yellow Jackets.

Bruce kicked down the door.

A pained moan from down the corridor he'd walked into drew his attention.

-/-/-

"Jason?"

Jason's head whipped up at the familiar voice. There he was - Bruce. Tattered and frowning, looking concerned. His cape was quite possibly a bit more ripped up than it had been earlier and he had a shallow scratch across his chin but aside from that, and looking a little stiff, he seemed fine.

"B." He nodded. His hands kept up their steady rhythm as they threaded through Rachel's hair. The dye didn't seem permanent and Jason assumed she could wash it out but right now he was quite liking the colour. It was..  fresh looking.

Bruce didn't mention his - now dried - bloody knuckles, knowing it was best not to. He made a questioning gesture at Rachel.

"Asleep." He assured. "Got her out of it. Red helped."

"Right." Bruce nodded and opened his mouth to say more when Rachel cut him off with a moan.

Her eyes fluttered as something squeaked from behind Bruce. Jason shot B a look as he sidestepped to reveal the Anti-Monitor.

"What the hell, Bruce?" He asked.

"What the hell are we what the hell-in' 'bout now?" Rachel slurred groggily. She shifted to try and see, pulling her eyes up to meet his.

"Baby," He pulled his head back down, moving his fingers to rub her scalp as her face twisted with the grimace of a headache. "You good now?"

"What sort of question is that?" She huffed.

Jason glanced up at the mountain shaking, "Not too sure anymore. More of a compensation thing, y'know?"

"No," Rachel said. Jason made sure he had a secure grip around her thighs as he eased himself up, lifting her with him. "Not really."

Rachel noticed Bruce and the Anti-Monitor as Jason stood up and shuffled her so she could see where they were going. "B, good to see you back. I see you've finally made a friend." She nodded her greetings. "Anti-Monitor."

The man gulped and shuffled, "A-Ah, it's an honour, Mrs Todd."

"Wedding happens next tuesday, Anti." Jason grinned. "Feel free to come. And she's keeping her last name. She'll be Mrs Todd-Wayne."

Rachel muttered something and buried her burning face into his neck. Jason smirked and patted her on the back.

//All heroes,\\ Diana shouted over the comms. Rachel jumped and Bruce started for the doorway, the Anti-Monitor limping closely behind him as Jason shoved his guns into their holders. His axes sung in their sheathes. //Amass at Challengers Mountain, we shall fight for our world! I ask the League to meet on the top, this Tenth Metal should be of some use.\\

-/-/-

"Me thinks cheese was too much," Bizzaro said.

"Not in the least, Ally. Personally, I think my gift of a chocolate pig was insufficient but alas, the maiden is this 'vegetarian' and I will support her." Artemis shook her head, patting Bizzaro on his large suited shoulder.

It was Little Red Helmet Man and Scary Sword Lady's wedding and Bizzaro was there with Artemis. So was most of the superhero community, to be honest - and most of Gotham's Rogues, but no one dared mention that.

Anyway, Bizzaro had been prepared for once. He'd went out to his local corner shop and had asked for the biggest cheese they had. Maybe it was his very impressive height or the fact his skin looked like he'd fallen into a mountain of bleach (he liked to think it was his kind smile) but the shoppie had paled considerably and scampered off to the back, coming in with one of those Baby Bell shaped 2kg circles of cheese, stating someone else had ordered it in and never came back for it. Bizzaro had taken it, dropping a lump of cash on the man's desk as he shoved the paper wrapped circle in a plastic bag that was big enough. And he'd gotten them a card, obviously, signing it and everything but he was more proud of the cheese. Little Red Man liked cheese, Bizzaro was sure Scarey Sword Lady did too.

Though, he wasn't too sure.

He'd put a flower in the card anyway. A rose. She liked roses. It was pink.

...Well, she'd kissed Red Helmet Man when he'd given her one and said she loved it. Bizzaro just hoped she didn't kiss him.

"Hey guys!" A voice, young and too quick for the normal person, drew Bizzaro's attetnion to its owner as the youngling appeared in front of him and Artemis. Wally West-Allen, Bizzaro was sure. Kid Flash. "Didn't know you two were here! How are you both? I'm okay, I'vebeenwiththeLegendsandwow,itissomuchfun...wellexceptforwhenSnartandRorystartplanningandSnartstealsmywalletwhenItalktoomuchbutstill.Rip,ourCaptain,isreallynice,andsoisRayandtheProf'sokay,Jaxisawesome,really,hecanturnintoFirestormwiththeProf.Sara'sokay,KendraandCarterareabitoddbutotherwisefine,beingbirdpeopleandall,JohnisconstantlyjoiningMickwhenhedrinks..wellnowthatIthinkaboutit,everyonebutmeandtheProfdrinkbutstill! I'mhavingalotoffun!"

"Very good, Child Flash." Artemis smiled, clapping him on the shoulder. Bizzaro watched as the boy winced. "Bizzaro and myself have been doing well, with Todd and Wayne we have brought back the Outlaws finally."

"Oh?" The kid seemed to brighten up at that. Bizzaro knew the falling out of the previous Outlaws had had a huge ripple effect on everyone. "That's great - and it's Kid Flash!"

"Oi, brat!" A rough voice called. Wally smiled wider - if possible - and looked over his shoulder. It was Mick Rory - Heatwave. "Off makin' friends without us already?"

"Dear god," An English man with smooth, flicked back, golden brown hair joined them, standing beside Mick. Bizzaro had forgotten his name but he knew the man was the Legend's co-Captain alongside Lance. He was, like the rest of his team, wearing some sort of suit. Even if Mick was wearing no blazer and the man who'd spoken had a glowing revolver strapped to his thigh. "That won't do - we didn't come here to get ditched."

"You definitely didn't, Rip," A blonde woman wearing a long flowing cut neck dress smirked, laughing. Bizzaro liked her. Sara Lance, was her name, if he was right. White Canary. "You came here to get drunk."

Rip Hunter feigned mock offence. "How dare you! I did not."

"Do not worry, Captain." An old man with a black kid beside him smiled happily. Martin Stein and Jefferson "Jax" Jackson. Firestorm, together. "I believe we all came here with the same intentions."

"To get drunk?" Leonard Snart, Captain Cold, drawled, walking up to them after talking to his sister. Bizzaro was sure most of America was standing in this venue alone. The Bat's family, for all their silence and glowering, had one of the biggest circles of friends and allies anyone could ask for. "If so, indeed."

"Really?" Ray Palmer, ex-millionaire and now the superhero ATOM asked. "I came here to celebrate."

"Same thing, man," The black kid, Jax said.

They were the Legends - protectors of Time and Space. Moreso time.

Bizzaro was sure he could see John Constantine poking at the buffet too and maybe Kendra Saunders laughing at Carter Hall as he glared at the punch bowl.

Bizzaro decided to wander around as Artemis fell into conversation with Sara Lance. He might as well try to find out just how many supers were here.

"-This is so exciting, Lois! Can you believe it?-" Superman.

"-What time does this last to?-" Booster Gold.

"-Barry, do you think Rachel's gonna wear a dress?" Green Lantern.

"Uh, why wouldn't she?-" Flash.

"-Isn't that Catwoman?" Vibe.

"Yeah?-" Red Arrow. (The female one.)

"-Oh! They have those little cake thingies!" Green Arrow.

"Don't eat them all, Ollie.-" Black Canary.

Practically everyone was here... Bizzaro didn't really want to count but if he had to, he'd say a good three quarters of the people in the room was either a superhero or a criminal. There had to be a good hundred people, if not more.

Artemis appeared again about five minutes later and stated they should get a seat. They did, and settled down to wait.

-/-/-

Jason could feel his heart in his throat as the heavy wooden doors swung open. If he didn't know better, he'd have assumed all this excess adrenaline was from some sort of chase or a fight but not today; today he was getting married.

Damn.

His stomach plopped down into his boots as the first shimmer of white met his eyes. As quickly as possible he scanned over Rachel before he had to turn around: she was beautiful, wearing a lavish white wedding dress that had lace swirling around her chest and down the train; her hair was up eccentrically, winding around at first in a bun before dropping into a low flowing pony tail that had beads clipped in; her makeup was all but nonexistent except for some mascara, eyeliner and some soft lipstick.

She was the definition of gorgeous. Au naturál.

Jason wondered what he'd done to deserve her. He'd been a lonely street brat at one point. Scavenging for food and guarding himself with only a rusted knife. His life had never been easy, he knew that all too well, though from the moment Bruce Wayne took him in things had started to look up. There was no more starving in dingy alleyways, no more stinking till he reeked and gave in to use the smelly, cold watered, public bathrooms, and there was no more worrying about his next meal.

Life really had begun to brighten until he popped up. The Joker. A bastard that enjoyed watching people die of heartache and was most likely a sadist and definitely a psychopath. There was a longer list of things that Jason wasn't yet willing to divulge but most people already knew it of by heart anyway.

Joker had lured him halfway across the world and back again in a futile search for his true mother. Eventually, he'd found her only to have his fickle trust ripped out and replaced with the bleak understanding that she'd sent him the letter on purpose, to betray him.

Then, the Joker had came and fucked it all up. Jason had never been the same but really, who was; after being tortured, dying from a bomb and being brought back by a sick twist of reality, then being led to eastern Europe by an Owl before shit happened.

Not him.

He'd went on a killing spree of Europe then, with Rachel by his side, more than willing to hop along for the ride, where they'd met Roy, a skinny asshole who didn't know the meaning of come wit' me. Jason'd rigged him up with them, offered him a begrudging friendship after a few explosions and lifesaving and had kept him along for the ride. They'd found Koriand'r together and then, six months later they'd grew in strength so much with Kori's addition to the team, they were able to band together a misshapen name of the Outlaws thanks to the press. They'd liked it and kept it, going on all sorts of suicide missions and other hunting ones.

Shit had went down, leaving in them disbanding and then things had been fucked up for a while. They'd been flung into Feudal Age Japan for a while, him for five months and her for seven, and during that time he'd drowned his woes and heartache of a still present betrayal in that time period's shitty sake and had attached himself to the mission of finding and waiting for the rest of the family to show up so they could shoot the crow.

Then they'd been back, back home and suddenly everything was okay again. Over the span of a rather unlucky yet brilliant coincidence, they'd grouped together a new team of Outlaws, him and Rache with their Amazon warrior, Artemis, and their muscled outcast, Bizzaro.

Things had been okay again.

And yet again, not a week ago, they'd went up against an evil god that wanted Bruce dead and they'd come out on top.

And now here he is, standing on a goddamn podium in a church and about to be married to the one thing in the world that makes his day shine.

The world brightens just that bit, heart beat pumping in his ears in anticipation as Rachel walks down the aisle, Bruce by her side, arm hooked around hers as if she was porcelain. Her smile is the thing of gods.

The calming sound of a bird's song flutters through the mid-day's breeze and in through the open window where it unknowingly gives Jason a softer, inside tune to play. The music twiddles on even as Rachel comes to a stop beside him, it runs circles around his head as they smile at each other and exchange words and only when he says "I do," does it seem to stop as the world does too.

Rachel's eyes are as bright as a beacon, her smile as loving as anything and with her hand stretched out on his palm, ring inches away from her finger, Jason decides he'll never change this for anything.

He loves Rachel.

"I do," and so does she.

"You may kiss the bride." Then, they kiss.

The room erupts in cheers and hollers.

Jason smiles and Rachel smiles back.