*Do not replicate/rework/translate my work anywhere else without my express permission. This story is on A03/Tumblr/Wattpad. Anywhere else, it is likely stolen.*
“Luv, why are you looking at me like I’ve grown three heads?” John gets a little worried.
I wanted to ask him about what Superman had said before I went any further, just in case it was something terrible. From the sounds of it, it might be and I wasn’t prepared to journey on with him at my side if that was the case.
“Spit it out!” he’s shuffling nervously. “I don’t like the way you’re starin’.”
“Why did you impersonate my husband?” I finally ask.
Summary: You have to face the Joker and Harley before you can get anywhere near Arthur Curry
Warnings: Lots of clowns, death traps, past trauma, violence, injury detail, panic attack description
CHAPTER 4 - A Fear of Clowns
*Do not replicate/rework/translate my work anywhere else without my express permission. This story is on A03/Tumblr/Wattpad. Anywhere else, it is likely stolen.*
The path to Joker and Harley’s compound was littered with graffiti, streamers and garish neon lights.
I had no idea how they had so much electricity to power this stuff out here but, when I looked more closely at a neon Joker sign I jumped out of my skin as a Jack in the Box erupted from nowhere, springing a clown into my face that laughed in a tinny mechanical fashion. I tripped as I tried to get away from it, landing on my ass on the mossy ground as I tried to get a grip on myself.
*Do not replicate/rework/translate my work anywhere else without my express permission. This story is on A03/Tumblr/Wattpad. Anywhere else, it is likely stolen.*
I had to get out of here.
Swinging like meat on a hook was not on my to-do list today so I did the only thing I could and started moving my legs to get some momentum. Higher and higher, I swung until I grabbed onto one of the hooks and started trying to use the point to saw the ropes.
It took me so long to even get some fraying on it but I lost my grip halfway through and ended up spinning as I fell away from the hook. My sawing had done enough though because the rope unravelled with my weight pulling against it and I hit the carpeted floor hard. I landed on my left wrist and there was a sharp pain up my forearm but I didn’t think I’d broken it.
I tried pushing up using my left hand and there was a grating feeling in my bones as I got to my feet but I was okay. I was alive.
Really, you should have expected to be rudely awakened by your phone ringing loud enough to wake the dead because that’s just the way your life tended to be. Honestly, the only thing that shouldn’t have shocked you was the only thing that did: the fact that John just continued to snooze away beneath you despite the affronting noise and the way you thrashed around while trying to silence it. If your mind was more functioning, you might have traded the befuddlement about your ex-husband for concern; how much sleep had the man missed out on lately?
Still, even half-awake you managed to hit the ‘dismiss’ button without so much as looking at the screen. Tired and annoyed, you flopped back down on John’s chest. There was just enough of a lull between bouts of your phone shrieking that you started to nod back off before the blasted thing started back up again.
This time, you snapped awake fully. Your phone never rang twice this close together unless there was some sort of emergency. As soon as you lifted it and actually read the caller ID, you sat up ramrod straight, voice perfectly clear when you asked, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s happening again.”
“Spirits?”
“Attached to my kid brother; I think they followed him from Nanda Parbat. I don’t care about seeing them; I don’t like that they’re violent and stuck to him.”
“It’s still not good that you’re still seeing them at all.”
“Chalk it up to the way I came back. Universe bullshit. Doesn’t matter. Will you come?”
“Of course. I’ll be there sometime tonight.” Your eyes slid over to John and noticed he was awake and had one eyebrow raised. “Might have a tag-along or two if you’re okay with it.”
“You trust them?”
“You could say tha,” you replied, eyes locked onto John’s.”
“Then bring them. I’ll be at the warehouse.”
“See you then.”
“Secret boyfriend?” John prompted as you got to your feet and started pulling on pants.
You laughed. “Only secret I’ve got these days is you, Johnny. He’s more like a brother. Been seeing violent spirits off and on since the universe brought him back from the dead after six months in the ground.”
He blinked in surprise. “Not something you see everyday.”
“Not in the slightest. Anyway, he’s seen something attached to his baby brother and given the origin, I don’t blame him for wanting them gone.”
Now, he roled out of the bed and yanked on his trousers. “So where’re we headed, luv?”
You tossed him his shirt with a smirk. “Gotham.”
~
Zed, as it turned out, had never been to the ‘dark, gloomy cesspool that is Gotham,’ and as such decided to tag along. You suspected that she was also eager to gain more information about you while she had the chance. Miraculously, she didn’t bring up what she’d seen in the kitchen the night before, of which you were quite grateful. You didn’t know what you’d say to explain it given everything else that was currently on your mind.
So instead of questions about the fact that you’d fucked your ex-husband, she filled the time with questions about Gotham.
“So, this place is the one with all the super weird bad guys, right?”
“Yep.”
“And you’ve been there before?”
“I live there part of the time.”
“Youlivethere? I thought John said–”
“That the place is the closest thing to Hell I’ve ever managed to find on Earth?” John cadded cheerfully.
“I never said it was nice.”
You didn’t turn around to look at her since you were driving, but from the pause, you assumed she was gaping at you. Then she asked, “And we’re going to help some random guy?”
“He’s a friend of mine, but yes. Basically.”
John turned around in his seat to ask Zed in a far-too-excited bvoice, “Do you already know about the man who runs around in a bat costume calling himself a hero?”
“What?”
“Yeah, there’s a whole family of them,” he cackled.
‘Okay, only one of them dresses like a bat,” you argued.
“How many of these vigilantes are we talking about?”
“Well there’s the Bat himself, Batgirl, Robin, Nightwing–”
“Nightwing’s in Bludhaven these days.”
“Spoiler I think, RedRobin, Signal, and Red Hood.”
“And there’s still that much crime?”
“Some people think the crime might be becauseof all the vigilantes.”
“Anyway,” you cut back in, “hopefully we won’t be there long enough for you to worry about it. I try to avoid most of them.”
John scoffed as he lit a cigarette with a small tongue of hellfire. “Knowing our luck?” he questioned doubtfully.
You just groaned.
~
Now, you knew full well who you were going to help, but that you didn’t mean that you were expecting Red Hood to be waiting in full gear in the warehouse when you pulled the car in.
Before anyone got out, Zed just stared at the masked man through the windshield. “I thought we were trying to avoid these guys.”
“I said we were going to try to avoid worrying about them,” you corrected, unbuckling your seatbelt, “as in not getting in their way.”
“You couldn’t have mentioned that we were coming to help the bloody Red Hood?”
“I’ll explain later,” was all you said before climbing out of the vehicle. “We doing this whole thing as alter-egos?” you asked as you strolled right up to the masked vigilante.
“You sure you truest these guys?”
“I promise your shit won’t even be in the same league of weird as the rest we’ve got going on.”
“That a yes?”
“Yeah, you can trust ‘em,” you said with a smirk thrown over to John as he moved to stand beside you.
“She mentioned you came back from the dead through the Universe’s meddling,” your ex commented abruptly “If that’s the case, why do you have the stink of a Lazarus Pit on you?”
“Constantine, maybe you shouldn’t be questioning the man with the guns,” Zed muttered from John’s other side.
“Another good question from our resident psychic. I thought your lot hated guns. Aren’t you supposed to be a hero?”
Hood gave a dark chuckle as he removed his helmet.. “You know, you’re exactly like she said.”
“Handsome and devilishly charming?”
Now he removed the domino, eyes glowing a dangerous Lazarus green with his anger. “Cocky and infuriating.”
John laughed. “There’sthose pretty green eyes. I’ll give you, you’re prettier to look at than the last Pit infected bastard I came across.”
“Okay boys, put ‘em away,” you interrupted. “Jace, you owe me a hug.”
With an amused huff, he squeezed you in a welcoming embrace. “You bailed on me to be with this guy?”
“World ending drama. You don’t wanna know. Jason, meet John Constantine. My ex-husband. John, Jason Todd. Basically my little brother at this point.”
“The guns are to get shit done,” Jason said in lieu of offering a handshake.
You rolled your eyes. “Not the point of us coming down here. The effects of the Pit can’t be removed without basically killing him, so we won’t be doing that.”
Thatmade John pause the antagonistic air he’d been giving off. Clearly, he hadn’t expected to hear that; after all, Ra’s never had that sort of issue. “Alright, then whose ghosts arewe trying to get rid of?”
“I’d like to know who my other guest is first, if you don’t mind.”
“Zed,” she offered along with her hand.
You lunged to shove that hand back down to her side. “No, we’re not doing that. She’s basically a touch telepath,” you informed Jason.
He paled. “Yeah, no. Sweetheart, you don’t wanna be digging around in my head. Coming back from the dead isn’t pretty.”
You breathed a relieved sigh. You’d been in his head enough to know how bad that might have been, specifically the little part about him digging himself out of his own grade. Not lingering on it, you asked, “So where is the Littlest Assassin?”
“Upstairs. I told him, so he’d be able to keep an eye out for anything that looks like a string of bad luck.”
“And who is this boy?”
“My little brother, Damian.”
“Wait …” John’s eyebrows furrowed. “Jason … and Damian …” His eyes slid over to you. “You got mixed up with the goddamn Wayne family?”
Jason shared a pointed look with you before answering. “That’s a story for another time.”
You nodded in aggreance. “We’re not getting into it right now. Let’s just get Dami squared away.”
~
“You met the Wayne family in Tibet of all places?” John asked incredulously on the drive back to the millhouse.
“I’m not getting into it.”
“And you decided to fuck thisguy,” Zed shoved the back of John’s seat, “over that tall drink of water we just left?”
“Jace is just a friend, Zed.”
“Wait, if Jason Todd is Red Hood and Damian Wayne is Robin, does that mean Batman is Bruce Wayne?”
“Yes, and if you blab about it I’ll make sure he knows who did it.”
~
“What the hell did you get mixed up in after we split?” John asked you over drinks in the living room after Zed retired for the evening.
“You mean after the divorce,” you pointed out between sips of your whiskey.
He rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
“Story for another time, John. Life moved on, and that’s all you need to worry about right now.”
“We’ll I’d like to know if I’m going a have that attractive, well-muscled, well-armedlad hunting me down for doing this.”
Then his lips were on yours and your brain was shorting out for several seconds. When you parted, though, your reasoning skills flooded right back to the front of your thoughts.
“John, we can’t do this.”
“Why not?”
It was hard to think straight when his breath was mingling with yours.
“You know why.”
“Do we really still care? I’m damned to Hell either way.”
You searched his gaze for any doubt. “Are you sure?”
“Only thing I was more sure of was when I asked you to marry me.”
Summary: You make some decisions, and Zed finds out about some things.
He was lying on his back with his hands folded casually behind his head and wearing nothing more than an undershirt and boxers when you closed the door behind you. The moment the latch clicked, he raised an eyebrow. “So what room were youtrying to be in, luv? Because I’m sure you weren’t angling to end up in here.”
“The library,” you shrugged, “though I can’t say I’m complaining very much about the view.” You allowed your eyes to trail up his body, thoroughly enjoying the sight laid out before you.
“Should we really be doing this?” he questioned as you stepped closer.
“Probably not.” Your jacket dropped to the floor. “We separated for a reason, didn’t we?”
“A rather good one, if I recall correctly.” His big, brown eyes were glued to the skin you exposed as you removed your shirt.
“So I have to ask, do you really care about those reasons anymore?”
Your pants came off next, causing John to swallow thickly. “I don’t really give a damn about what we should do anymore.”
“Then we’re on the same page,” you stated, just standing beside the bed, waiting for him to make the next move.
“Brilliant,” was the last intelligent word exchanged between the pair of you before he seized your hips and dragged you down on top of him.
God, you’d missed this man.
~
“Youlook like you had a good time,” Zed commented when John stepped half-naked into the kitchen.
Glancing at the clock, he noticed that it was almost three in the morning. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“And who are you, my father?”
“I fucking hope not,” he muttered as he grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge.
“You’redrinking water? She must have really worn you out,” Zed observed.
He sighed, eyes sliding shut in defeat. “What do I have to do for you to keep quiet about this?”
“Tell me who she is.”
“My ex,” he stated unhelpfully. “We done?” He knew full well that wouldn’t be enough to satisfy Zed’s burning curiosity, but he was still mildly annoyed when she blocked his attempted getaway. A harsh exhale left his nose. “Fine. Got anything specific you’re wanting to know, then? I’ll give you two freebies.”
“Five.”
“One.”
“Three.”
“Deal. Ask, so I can get some sleep.”
“Gotta get back to her, huh?” Zed teased.
His eyebrows started crawling to his hairline of their own accord. “That one of your questions?”
Her smile fell at his tone. No teasing John tonight, then. “No. Okay, she’s your ex-what? Girlfriend, roommate, lover …? Everyone’s been impressively vague so far.”
“Wife. Next?”
Zed looked like he just pulled the rug out from under her. Wide eyes, slack jaw, pretty much every textbook sign of someone being completely flabbergasted could be found on her face. Wisely, she didn’t use one of her remaining questions on clarifying that.
“Okay … She seems like quite an interesting person.”
“She is.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I know. It wasn’t a question at all.”
She rolled her eyes. “So how did you two meet?”
His eyes slid to the ceiling in almost a slow motion version of what she’d just done. “I had a job. Demon was causing problems in what turned out to be her neck of the woods. I had a friend call me in to help; she beat me to it. Got along like hellfire right from the start.”
That phrasing didn’t escape Zed. The Hellblazer himself–as she’d once had a vision of him being called–comparing anythingto hellfire wasn’t a usual occurrence, let alone once that was coupled with that vision you’d made her see … Still, there was one question burning on her tongue to ask before she could even dream of bugging him into elaborating why hellfire of all things kept popping up around the pair of them.
“Why did you break up?”
“When you’re done talking about marriage, it’s called divorce, just so you know.”
“What I know is that you’re stalling for time.”
John groaned, knowing she had him but still he tried to sidestep. “It was best for both of us.”
“Really?” Zed’s eyebrows were creeping upwards. “Because as Chas tells it, you went into one hell of a spiral after the divorce, and that’s not something you do when it’s mutual. And I’m not accepting that pathetic excuse for a sentence as an answer, by the way.”
“We got a divorce because of my family,” you announced as you stepped out of the hallway’s deep shadows.
Zed didn’t miss the way a light appeared in John’s brown eyes at the sight of you. It was a light that only got brighter when you moved closer and kissed him soundly. The way your fingers down his chest during the exchange almost made Zed look away, because that little caress changed the tone from purely lustful to something too intimate for onlookers.
“I was coming right back, luv.”
“You took too long,” you shrugged before stealing his water and taking a long gulp, “and I was thirsty.”
“What about your family made you get a divorce?” Zed found herself asking. “And you two seem awful close for being divorced.”
“Both of those things fall firmly under the ‘my business’ umbrella, and not the ‘our business’ one, Z,” you informed her.
“What if that’s why I keep having visions of you? Doesn’t that make it my business?”
“No, that makes you a peeping tom.” You sighed. “Look, if it seems like that’s what we need to stop this Rising Darkness bullshit, I’ll loop you in.” It wasn’t a difficult decision to make, all things said; your issues could be shelved if the information needed to be shared. Until then, it would remain firmly between you and John.
Then you felt him kiss your temple sweetly, and all of your attention shifted back to him, the man that’d just slung his arm around your shoulders like he always did back in the day. “Well on that lovely, invasive note, we all need to get some sleep.”
Zed blinked, clearly taken aback by the overt subject change. “Goodnight, I guess.”
“Remember our deal. I don’t want to hear a word about this tomorrow.”
You laughed. “Right, just let us leave our own bad decisions in the past.”
Already, the pair of you were strolling down the hall back to John’s room, no doubt leaving a baffled seer in your wake.
“In the past, huh?” you teased, linking your fingers with the ones he had dangling over your shoulder.
“Well …” He turned to smirk at you. “We’ll see. Besides, the night’s not over yet.”
When you stepped into the millhouse, it was exactly the same as the last time you saw it, right down to that strange mirror over the fireplace. You knew John was out working on his latest gig, but you expected to run into at least someoneout and about in the place. Still, you weren’t upset at the chance to poke around.
It was a little concerning how many decanters were in the old liquor cabinet. The copious amounts of cigarette butts in the ashtray, however, weren’t too uncommon for the chain-smoking exorcist.
“Hello?” That was Chas’s voice coming from down the hall, growing closer as he threatened, “I know you’re here, so you’d best show yourself before I get nasty.
“I thought getting nasty was usually John’s gig,” you teased as he finally stepped into view.
Blankly, he stared at you for a moment before saying your name in an utterly confused tone.
“That’s still me, boyo,” you confirmed, allowing him to scoop you into a tight hug.
“What’re you doinghere?” he asked with a laugh while he stepped back from you. “You here for John?”
“In a manner of speaking,” you replied hesitantly, not wanting to get his hopes up about your sudden reappearance. “Signs keep pointing me back to you lot, so I figured I’d let you know I’m around since I doubt John’s mentioned it.”
“He’ll be happy you’re back,” he stated, practically confirming that John was being pretty tight-lipped about your involvement in this whole Rising Darkness affair.
“Chas …”
He muttered your name quietly before asking softly ,“Why did you leave him? One day, you two are crazy about each other, and the next you’re getting a divorce? I mean the guy clearly misses you. What could possibly–”
“You’re her,” a new voice interrupted him from the other side of the room. The new arrival, the seer Zed if you had to wager, scurried closer to get a better look at you. “You’re the woman I keep seeing.”
“So I’ve heard,” your voice was cold, a little unnecessarily so, but it was hard not to be frigid when you were actively glaring at Chas to keep the past to himself.
Zed’s eyes kept trailing up and down your body like she was looking for something specific. “Who the hell are you, anyway? Why do I keep seeing youof all people?”
You couldn’t help it, your icy façade broke apart as a laugh bubbled up from your chest at the bluntness of her questions.
“Ah, I was wondering where you’d gotten off to, luv,” John said, gesturing extravagantly as he breezed into the room. “Zed, I’d like you to meet my ex, the absolute nightmare that she is.” Even though his mouth and expression implied distaste for you, you could see the way his gaze lingered on the chain around your neck, on your lips for just a fraction of a second longer than was socially appropriate. “This cruel little lady is here to help you with your abilities, Zed.”
Looking at him, you raised an eyebrow as if to ask, “Oh am I?” but you didn’t argue.
Zed’s dark eyes lit up a little. “You’re like me?” she guessed.
“Not exactly.” When she deflated a little, you continued, “I’ve got a different set of skills, but I understand how yours works. I should be able to give you a few pointers.”
“Then we’ll leave you to it.” John’s hand came down hard on Chas’s shoulder. “Let’s go see about that taxi of yours, shall we?”
It was only the once they were gone that Zed stated, “I keep seeing you and John together in my visions.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“But I can never tell if it’s the past or the future.”
“Knowing the difference is a skill you’ll have to develop. Once you reallystart paying attention, you’ll find that they feel different; something about them just resonates on a different level. As for me and Constantine, what you’re seeing is in the past,” you lied, casually mixing truth with fiction. As far as Zed–and the rest of the planet, honestly–was concerned, there was nothing between you and your ex-husband anymore.
Her eyes narrowed a little. “I’m sorry, being around John has totally killed my manners. We still haven’t been introduced properly. I’m Zed,” she stated, offering you her hand to shake.
Instead of humoring her, you crossed your arms as you offered your own name. “And you seem like a smart enough woman to realize how incredibly rude it is to try and read someone without their permission.”
She shrugged, only deigning to look mildly apologetic. “Can’t blame a girl for trying. Everyone’s been suspiciously cagey with information about you.”
You stared at her for a moment, assessing the situation as a whole. There was every possibility your next move would backfire directly in your face, but the temptation was simply too much to resist. “Alright,” you announced, offering your hand.
Now it was Zed’s turn to look distrustful. “You justsaid–”
“And now I’m giving you permission,” you pointed out, “if you think you can handle it.”
She laughed. “Well, I’ve never been one to run away from a challenge,” was all she said before grasping your hand.
Immediately, she gasped at the onslaught of information, and thanks to your own gifts you could see exactly what was swarming her mind and even control it to a degree.
The most overwhelming thing in the vision was the impossibly hot, scarlet red fire that tore through her mind. Hellfire, the very thing that thrived in your veins at every moment, the thing it’d taken you years to learn how to control once you first awakened that power. It was only throughthat punishing fire that a few hazy memories leaked through your control for Zed to see.
The day John proposed, a few times you’d seen his old band perform, things like that. The instant that Zed was able to make out the bare, sweat-covered skin of John’s chest, she reflexively jerked away from you.
This time, you raised your eyebrows in challenge. “See what you wanted?”
“What was that?” she gasped as she fought her spasming lungs to gulp air down.
“I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume you’re not asking about the mechanics of sex. Let’s just say that’s the reason you don’t go through people’s heads if you don’t know anything about them. Consider that your first lesson. You never know if your target is someone like me that can control what you see. They can make you see nonsense, or they might be able to trick you into seeing something that never happened.”
“Thefire?”
You smirked. “Maybe someday you’ll figure it out. But you managed to squeeze out a few memories from me at least, which is more than I expected. John’s handiwork?”
Her face darkened in a blush, no doubt recalling the last memory she saw of what you thought might have been the last night you and John were together. “He’s been the one helping me until now.:”
“Not terrible for a beginner,” you admitted. “Go get some rest, Zed; you look exhausted.”
She nodded. “Good idea. You gonna be sticking around?”
“Depends on if John and I are going to kill each other or not,” you lied again while on the inside, you knew that the pair of you were unlikely to part again anytime soon. For better or worse, your fates were tied together once more; you could feel that much in your very soul.
And based on the way the millhouse rearranged itself so that the door that should have led to the old library actually opened up into John’s messy bedroom, it knew that as well as you did.
Summary: Some more mirror hinting, and John runs into his old flame
It was when Gaz and Zed were left alone that Zed saw the woman that’d been haunting her visions for the first time outsideof one of those visions. Both her and Gary were in bad shape from their bizarre, shared withdrawal symptoms, so Zed found herself lounging on the couch in front of the fireplace. John wasn’t around to explain this particular weirdness when she first noticed that the mirror was showing something that wasn’t the room it resided in. If anything, it looked like it was displaying images from some other point in time.
She watched the scene curiously, head tilted in mute confusion as she watched the pair interact like they were on a mute TV instead of a mirror.
They looked happy, John and however the woman was. They were smiling and dancing in a lazy circle while holding each other close. In the firelight, a pair of rings shined on the woman’s left ring finger, one silver and one copper. Zed’s eyebrows furrowed. On the next pass, she clocked a matching silver ring on John’s finger.
“What?” she found herself whispering to no one.
“Not sure what happened to her,” Gary’s voice pulled her attention from the mirror.
“You know who she is?”
“Yeah, she was Johnny’s girl. They were together for ages, but then she up and left him all of the sudden.”
“Can’t really blame her if he was always this much of a flake,” Zed muttered.
Gary chuckled at that. “You don’t understand. For years they were practically inseparable. Then something changed.”
“And you don’t know what happened?”
“John won’t talk about it,” the heroin addict explained. “Just showed up one day without her and all but ordered us not to ask about her. Then Newcastle happened, and well …” He trailed off for a moment. “Well, I don’t blame her for staying away after that mess.”
~
When John stepped out of the shaman’s shop, a familiar voice called his attention to the wall next to the door he just exited. “So I hear you need a fancy knife,” you taunted the second his eyes landed on you.
Gods, she’s as stunning as ever, John found himself thinking immediately. “And a human host to boot. You know, the usual level of nonsense with demons.”
“Well, I can help you with one–”
John was cutting you off by pressing his lips to yours before he really knew what he was doing because his feet carried him across the distance between you in two strides and his hands were already twining themselves in your hair to make the kiss harder, more passionate.
And you didn’t fight him in the slightest. No, you were just glad he made the first move, because you knew that if he hadn’t, your usually-iron will would have given out only moments later. Your fingers knotted their way into his blond hair to try to pull him impossibly closer until the need for air made the two of you part. Even then, you didn’t move far away. Instead, you rested your forehead rested against his as your free hand moved to touch your now-swolen lips.
“Shite, I shouldn’t have done that,” he muttered, though he made no move to step away.
“Can’t say I’m complaining,” was your response as you pet his hair fondly. “Not like anyone’s around to call us on it.”
“I think Zed already has,” was hisresponse as he looked at the chain that had started worming its way out of your shirt.
“She your seer friend?”
“Clairsentient, and ‘friend’ is an awfully strong word in this line of work, luv.”
“That’s a yes, then. What’s going on with this hunger demon, then? Aside from what you just found out. Why here, why now? This isn’t their usual stomping ground.”
He sighed, pressed a kiss to your forehead, and stepped back a single step. “Gaz.”
“Like … Gaz, Gaz?” You were surprised, for sure. Last you heard of Gary Lester, he’d been lost in a drug haze somewhere overseas.
“It’s a long story. Remind me to fill you in on the Rising Darkness later.”
He sounded as tired as he looked. John Constantine looking rumpled and exhausted wasn’t anything new; he had sleeping issues long before you met him all those years ago. But this was something else. Something awfulhad happened after the split, and it left quite a mark on the man you loved. If you were the betting type, you’d wager it had to do with whatever happened up in Newcastle that had made the magical community aflutter a while back.
“Do you need help on this one?” you offered. Idly, your hand reached out to straighten his tie. It was a futile gesture, but it was an action that gave you somewhere to look that wasn’t his bloodshot, brown eyes.
“Point me towards that knife, and I can handle the rest.”
You didn’t like his tone. There was something about it that resonated as just this side of unhinged. “What are you going to do?”
John inhaled sharply, clearly having an internal debate over whether or not he should tell you. “If you have anything to say to Gaz, do it now. He’s at the millhouse, provided he hasn’t given Zed the slip yet.”
You eyes slid closed as you nodded along with the realization of what his plan was. “Is it the only way?”
Now, he shrugged. “He wants retribution, he causedthis outbreak, and I need a host–preferably a willing one–in order to trap this demon. Unless you’re wanting to do it yourself, this is really our only option.”
“I’m not exactly the most human of hosts, John.”
“Exactly. Seventy-five percent isn’t exactly good enough, as it were.”
You frowned, not liking the jab at your genetics, but still you found yourself nodding again because he wasn’t wrong. “The knife you need’s at the museum.” The deep breath you took was really the only thing keeping your nerves from being completely out of control. “When the time comes, tell him I say ‘goodbye,’” was all you requested.
“Alright,” he agreed calmly. “I’ll pass it along.”
“Right. Thanks.” You swallowed thickly. “You know you’ve got a celestial stalker, right?” Desperately, you hoped he wouldn’t comment on the way your voice broke while trying to change the subject.
He snorted, pulling out a cigarette. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“Then we better part ways; they get snippier than usual when I’m around in my experience.”
“Will you, uh, be staying close, then?”
“Close enough to be there if you absolutely need me, but, John, you know we can’t–”
“I know, but believe you me, one of these days I’m going to stop caring about the fact that we shouldn’t.”
The scary part was that you suspected that that day would come sooner rather than later, and you were already looking forward to it.
Summary: Meeting Zed dredges up even more memories
Of all the things John expected to see when he broke into that tricky little con artist’s apartment, the large, charcoal drawing of him and his ex-wife standing forehead to forehead certainly wasn’t one of them. Either this artist was one hellof a stalker that really wanted to scare him by drawing this, or she was the real deal–a seer of some flavor or another. And if she was a seer …
John squinted at the drawing. Falling out of her shirt in the image was a startlingly familiar pair of rings dangling from a delicate chain: a nice, plain wedding band, and the shitty copper engagement ring he’d won in a gacha vending machine about two minutes before proposing.
“… Bollocks,” he breathed. This drawing wasn’t something from the past like he’d been hoping. In their time together, she’d always worn that stupid thing (for a moment, John could perfectly picture the way her face had absolutely lit up when he’d gone to one knee with that ring still in the plastic orb it came in); there was no way the artist could have known to put it on a chain instead of on her finger if it was based on stalking.
Reluctantly, and with his eyes still tracing the planes of your face drawn in smudgy black, he pulled out his phone and dialed your number.
When you answered on the first ring with a questioning, “John?” he couldn’t help but chuckle, even if his heart was racing at the sound of your voice turning his name into something that seemed more precious than it had any right to be.
The repeated call of his name shook him out of his stupor. He coughed awkwardly to try and cover it up. “Yeah, luv, it’s me.”
“Are you alright?” Of course thatwas your first reaction to the fact that he was calling. It was sweet even if he chose not to question the reason for your concern. He didn’t need to think very hard to know that you either thought you were in danger that he needed help with or that he was calling you while hopelessly drunk. Again.
“‘M fine. I’ve stumbled across a seer.”
“John …”
“I know,” he waved off her concerned questioning. ”What I don’t know is how you’re involved.”
“Then why are you calling me?”
“Tell me, do you wear your rings on a chain around your neck?” Your silence told him plenty. It was hard to ignore the way his heart fluttered at the confirmation. “I miss you too, luv.”
“Don’t, John,” you snapped, voice colder than necessary as you, he assumed, also tried to ignore any lingering feelings that were being dredged up by this phone call.
“Right.” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know how you’re involved, but she’s drawn the two of us together.”
“Could be us in the past,” you suggested. “Maybe she sees memories of people she’s about to meet?”
“Not with that bit about your ring.” John’s fingers moved to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Listen, I’ll try not to bring you into whatever’s going on, but I wanted to give you a warning.”
He could hear you sigh before you spoke up, “Where are you hiding these days? I can make sure I’m nearby in case you need me.”
“That’s not–”
“It is necessary, and youknow it as well as I. Seers never mean anything good. If I start making my way there now, it’ll be less hassle later.”
You were right, especially since, “The mirror showed the two of us a few days ago.”
Silence fell for a moment. “So you’re at the millhouse. I’ll head that way, be in the area and all that.”
“… Thanks, luv.”
“Goodbye, John.”
By the time he pulled the phone away from his ear, John’s heart was racing. That reaction was the exact reason that he made a point to avoid any of your old haunts, because–divorce aside–you still had quite the effect on him.
“Back to work,” he found himself saying in an attempt to convince himself to do just that. So he nosed around Zed’s apartment, for real this time, trying to find any real information about who the woman was.
Before he knew it, he was arguing with Zed about how convenienther vague, no-roots-anywhere lifestyle was. Then he had to worry about scaring her off; he couldn’t take making another friend just to lose them again.
~
When he got back to the millhouse, John was about thirty percent convinced that he was going to see your car parked in the driveway, and the moment he saw that it was empty, a strange combination of relief and sadness washed over him. He wasn’t sure if he could handle being around you after everything in the mining town, but simultaneously his entire being ached for you.
Despite his better judgement, he settled on the couch across from the fireplace with a nice glass of whatever whiskey he found in the cabinet. Looking up at that damned mirror, he was greeted once again with the sight of you. In the reflection, you would have been sitting right next to where he was now. Sitting like this with the memory of you wasn’t an indulgence he’d ever allowed himself. Even at his worst, John hadn’t been dumb enough to think it wise to do such a thing given his proclivities for indulging in things that made him even more self-destructive than he usually was.
Still he found him doing exactly that.
In the mirror, you were looking directly at him like you knew he’d eventually be doing exactly this. Maybe you did; you’d always displayed a tendency to be eerily precognitive. Then any doubt in the matter was removed whenever you in the past mouthed, “I love you,” before looking off to the side as the John from your time walked into view and immediately kissed you.
The current John scoffed. “Enjoy it while you can, mate,” he advised the man he used to be, glass raised as if it was a toast. A really shitty, pathetic, ominous toast.
“You won’t know what you’ve got until you’ve lost her.”
Summary: That mirror above the fireplace dredges up memories John would rather forget, no matter how good they might have been at the time.
Note: AAAAAAAAAAAAAnd here’s another 10k (10 chapters, roughly 1k each), this one about my man John Constantine because I started watching the show again and got bit by the plot bunny. Tell me your thoughts if you like it! I love reading some rambling comments from you guys xp
“Time’s out of joining in that mirror,” Constantine’s words echoed through Liv’s ears as she found herself gazing into it for the second time that day. Again, she was alone. John and Chas were out getting … something for dealing with her little problem, so she’d taken to roaming around the old millhouse by herself.
Just like last time, she started in alarm when the mirror didn’t reflect her (or even her father), and instead chose to show her something different that happened at some point in the past.
It was a familiar form on display, this time. Well, at least half of the couple shown in the silver surface was familiar anyway, because it was none other than John Constantine himself. Only this version of John was smiling without the sarcastic, biting edge to it that it usually had. He seemed, for lack of better word, happy. It seemed like he was talking to someone that was only partially in frame.
The other person was a woman, that much she could tell. Liv couldn’t see much more than that because her back was to the mirror. A flash of a bottle in the woman’s hands meant that she was pouring her and John drinks. Not someone like Liv who just needed his help, then.
John in the past laughed–it was clear just from the visual that it’d been a loud, boisterous one–and his hands came to grasp the woman’s leather jacket to pull her closer to him. Now, Liv would never claim to be good at lip-reading by any stretch of her imagination, but she felt confident enough in her skills that she was certainJohn told the woman something that included the words, “Love you.”
“What’s that blasted thing showing you n–” the current John, the real one that just walked into the room with her, was asking before cutting himself off the second he could see the mirror with his own eyes.
“Who is that?”
He snorted. “You shouldn’t pay too much attention to the past, luv.”
“You look happy,” she pointed out, trying a different tactic to get information.
His frown made his already thin lips thinner. “We have more important things to deal with. We have to trap Furcifer before he gets even more out of hand.”
“What h–”
“What happened?” He gave an almost manic sounding laugh. “No. I’m not talking about that. We’re leaving. Now.”
~
John was impressivelynot in the mood to deal with the gang that was so obviously following him, and it certainly didn’t help that his hands automatically started doing something inspired by you to scare them off. It did nothing but bring up memories of you, and that was never a good thing for him. The whole ‘dunking his hands in oil and lighting them on fire’ thing was a gag he’d developed with her as his muse, after all. A little magic to keep his hands from burning, and most mortals would go running at the sight of a madman lighting his own hands on fire.
It worked like a charm this time just like all the others.
Once alone again, his mind started turning over and over the events that led him here, most of all his time in Ravenscar.
~
The shrink just hadn’t been able, or willing for that matter, to let the concept of John’s ex-wife go once he accidentally let her name slip past his lips. That man nagged John about her every session after for the entire two months he’d been in Ravenscar afterwards, right up until he checked himself out and strolled out the door. Her and Astra had been that man’s favorite bones to pick when discussing John’s various traumas. Their existences haunted his ‘therapy’ like they haunted his nightmares. He just couldn’t escape.
One thing led to another in both instances involving those two, after all. The divorce, however consensual it might have been, left him lonely, and a lonely John Constantine was never a good thing. He wasn’t good at handling it. Just ask anyone he ever called ‘friend’. Hell, you could probably get a similar answer from those he called ‘enemy’.
When he was lonely, he got dangerous. He got nasty and had a tendency to drink. When he was drunk, John either got sad, horny, or over-confident. Unfortunately for Astra, he knew he’d been the latter during the disaster with Nergal. Then he was left with a whole new reason to drink, plus the lovely addition of his soul being thoroughly being damned to Hell when he eventually (or not so eventually) kicked the metaphorical bucket.
~
He shook his head to clear away the memories. Dwelling would do him no good now (or ever, if he was being perfectly honest). Still, he didn’t like the fact that the mirror had shown that specific evening (their anniversary, not long before everything went sideways) to Liz. It could be nothing. It could bloody well be a coincidence–maybe the mirror felt like reminiscing because the date was coming up or something, John didn’t know, he made a point to avoid calendars at this point–or it could be a sign.
And John wasn’t sure he believed coincidences anymore.
Maybe it was that the pair of you were still riding high and distracted from the fact that you were remarried. Maybe it was just plain bad luck. Either way, a run-of-the-mill evil hunt had spun completely out of control and led to John lying limp and bleeding in your arms with Zed flickering at the edge of consciousness next to you.
Across from you stood the culprit: a demon of middling power that managed to get its hands on a sword that rendered the wielder almost immortal. Nothing John threw at it landed (magical or physical), and any visions Zed managed to have only showed the lot of you dead at its feet.
“At last,” it was monologuing, “the great John Constantine will take his rightful place in the bowels of Hell.”
Zed was just blinking herself awake fully when she saw you stand. All she could do was watch in horror as flames–those same flames she’d seen in your mind so long ago–started writhing around her entire body. Inwardly, Zed wondered what the hell she’d been living with for the last few months. You’d displayed power, sure, but nothing like this.
Outwardly, the demon expressed a similar train of thought as you stormed towards it. Within moments, it found itself simply vaporized, sword or no sword, by the hellfire that seemed to be pouring from every part of you. Later, the lot of you would figure that the sword couldn’t protect from power that matches that of the wielder. Meaning a demon could still be killed by demonic power.
For now, though, the threat of the randomdemon had passed, but the threat of youwas still fully present since you were showing no sign of calming down.
“John,” Zed called weakly, praying her friend was still awake enough to stop his wife.
“I know!” His voice sounded strangled, probably by the pain, but still he was already struggling to his feet. Leave it to John to keep pushing forward despite his injuries. The fire he was approaching was still concerning; Zed only hoped he knew what he was doing by just boldly walking towards her.
Meanwhile, John was almost too worried about you to feel the various injuries that littered his body. Almost. Every part of his face aching was still quite literally painfully present in his awareness. The rest, though, irrelevant as he carefully stepped into the swirling vortex of hellfire. Small blessings that he was immune to your main weapon of choice, he supposed.
“Luv, it’s over,” he tried to say, but his voice was drowned out by the crackling flame. Gritting his teeth, he reached out and took your hand in an attempt to get your attention. Your eyes were solid black when they landed on his. “I’m alright,” he said as loudly as he could manage. “Might not look it, but a couple days and I’ll be right as rain. You can stop now.”
This was what the pair of you had been afraid of when you first realized just how important the other was to you. Neither could ever be sure how they’d react to something happening to the other. It was the real reason for the divorce all those years ago, the hidden one below all the layers of lies.
“Relationship differences,” was the surface one you actually told people, the one that no one that knew you believed.
“Being with a demon-blooded human was a certain way to damn John’s soul,” the partial truth, the one no one had ever tried to look past to get to the real truth.
“The sight of the one you loved potentially dying was enough to send you flying off the handle potentially on a world-ending scale since one of you was part demon and the other was a powerful mage,” that was the truly terrifying one.
The fire calmed finally. The swirling slowed to a stop.
“John?” came your terrified voice. Ironic, considering that you were the only remaining threat.
“Who else?” he said with a tired smirk.
A tiny smile graced your features before your eyes rolled back in your head and you collapsed.
John merely waved off Zed’s scared yelp of your name as he knelt beside your prone form. You’d be fine; that fall wasn’t enough to really hurt you. Normally, he would have tried to catch you, but that dislocated shoulder and broken arm of his simply wouldn’t allow it. “It’s alright, sweetheart,” he muttered while digging his phone out of his pocket with his good hand. “I’ll get Chas on his way.”
It was only once everyone was back in the car on the way home that Zed finally asked the question that had been burning her tongue since you first lost control. “What … just happened?”
John just shook his head, clearly not wanting to talk about it.
Which prompted Chas to ask, “It finally happen?”
“… Yeah …” He squeezed your still-limp hand.
“Was it her?”
“Yeah.”
Chas hesitated. “You’re not planning on leaving her again are you?”
“No,” John denied without hesitation. “Never. We’ll deal with whatever happens as it comes.”
You were the one that responded to that with a croaked, “Good.”
You woke in the morning feeling like you got hit by a bus. That’d be the drinking, you’d wager. Already, you felt the old, formerly familiar weight of a ring on your wedding finger, but that was something to be analyzed when you didn’t feel like death warmed over. You gracelessly flopped your hand behind you to see if John was still there.
Based on the annoyed grunt when your palm met skin, John was in fact in bed with you.
“You awake?” you grumbled.
“Unfortunately.” His arm came tourist around your waist, pulling your back against his chest.
“Any chance you know a spell for hangovers?”
“Only one that causes them,” was all he murmured before kissing your shoulder.
“Why did I marry you?”
It felt like the pair of you tensed up at exactly the same time. Your eyes snapped wide open despite the pain caused by the dim light that managed to slip through the curtain; you could only assume he looked the same in that instant. Your hand trailed down slowly to squeeze his upper thigh.
“By any chance, do you recall us quite responsibly using a teleportation spell while we were drinking last night?”
“By any chance, do you recall us getting married and having an argument with Zed last night?” you countered.
“I do.” There was a pause that was only filled with him kissing the back of your neck. “Any regrets?”
You rolled over so you could kiss him firmly on the lips before promising, “Never. I stand by what I said last night.” You were pretty sure you said it, at least. “You’re it for me, John Constantine.”
An uncharacteristically genuine smile spread across his handsome face. “I’m yours. For better or worse, sweetheart. Hell or not, dangeror not, I’m not letting you slip through my fingers again.”
His grin was apparently infectious because you found yourself mirroring it. You traced his cheekbone with your thumb. “I love you.”
That beaming smile turned knowing; he was well aware that that tone almost always came with a favor being requested. “Love you too. Let me guess. Coffee?”
Summary: Life decisions based on 5 word sentences are questionable at best
Bad ideas didn’t exclusively come in little, five-word statements in the middle of the night while a few steps past tipsy, but that was a guaranteed way to come up with them. “We should buy a bar,” “I want to steal that,” “I thought you were single,” … “We should get remarried.” You know, normal, little sentences. The last was the most relevant right after that mess with Ritchie, because that was all the tempting it took for you and John to teleport to Vegas and make it happen.
The pair of you were still giggling to yourselves in blind happiness when you got back home. And ‘getting back home’ meant stepping back through the portal of swirling darkness into the living room where Zed was apparently hanging out.
“What the hell?!” she shouted in alarm. “What is going on? Where did you come from? When did you leave?”
“Teleportation, sweetheart. Try to keep up,” he slurred with a vague wave of his hand.
“Since when can you teleport?”
“He can’t,” you snickered. “I can because of my …” you waved broadly at your body, “bullshit. I can drag him through because he’s John fucking Constantine.”
His smirk was better classified as a leer when you glanced at him. “Well,” he drawled. “Not ‘fucking’ currently, anyway.”
“Okay, okay, okay,” Zed focused both of your straying attention by speaking quickly. “I kept quiet that one night because you asked me to, but we’re wellpast that now. What is going onwith you two?!”
“We got married!” you announced happily. The way you moved your hand to display your rings’ return to their rightful place on your finger jostled John from where he was trying to kiss your neck. All you did was shush his complaining grumble. You were goingto enjoy announcing this while your buzz lasted, and you’d be damned if he distracted you from it.
Zed looked confused. “Weren’t you already married?”
“My darling wifemeans to say that we gotremarried,” John corrected. “As in married again”
“For the second time!” you chirped.
“… Is that a good idea? Didn’t you get divorced for a reason?” Zed’s concern was obvious. “I mean, you wouldn’t do that just for nothing.”
You frowned. “And we’re back together for a reason. If you’re not going to be happy for us,” you leaned over the couch to grab the bottle of whiskey that was resting on the coffee table, “we’re going to our bedroom to start our honeymoon.”
“I like this plan!” John announced, planting a smack of a kiss on your cheek. “Let’s see if we can recreate the first one, shall we?”
“And I like thatplan. You think you can still do that thing with your hips?”
“That and more, sweetheart.”
Dimly, you were aware of Chas’s voice asking, “What’s going on?” as you and John strolled down the hall, his fingers already trying to pry open your pants.
You were lounging in the living room, enjoying a drink with John when an unexpected chill raced down your spine. This chill was similar but oh-so-unwelcomely different than most others you’d felt in your life. Overall, it was the same … except for the sparks of electricity that danced painfully along your ribs as it passed.
“You alright, luv?”
There was likely no small amount of hostility in your gaze when you searched around the room for the source of your pain. “You making friends with angels behind my back?”
“Bloody hell …” It felt like every muscle in John’s body stiffened upon hearing that question, but his voice was still that Constantine-branded casual when he said, “Friend would be a mighty strong choice of word for it.”
“John, I’m disappointed,” a new masculine voice sounded as a dark-skinned angel appeared in the room with you.
“About us not being friends?” John scoffed. “You really shouldn’t be surprised.”
The angel rolled his eyes. “And here I’d heard that you’d come to your senses when you cut ties with this … filth.” The way he spat the word reminded you of the way one might discuss the finding of a rat in one’s dinner. “Yet you’re decided to start–what’s the phrase–slumming it … again.”
You could see John’s jaw flexing with his anger. “That’s none of your business,” you snapped before he could say anything that might get him killed.
“It is when the reasonhe got involved in stopping the Rising Darkness was to save his soul!”
The icy chill was back, but this one was born purely out of fear. “What?”
“If you wanted her out of it, maybe you shouldn’t have let literally everything point to the fact that we needed her,” came John’s sharp reply.
Now, it was the angel’s turn to be unpleasantly surprised. “What are you talking about?”
The laugh that left John’s mouth was a harsh, cruel-sounding thing. “Of course you don’t know. Zed, your precious seer–you remember her, right?–was having visions about the two of us. Apparently, we need her to fight your precious Rising Darkness.”
Angel boy’s jaw clenched. “Have you checked the scry map?” Apparently, he didn’t feel like discussing his shortcomings on the Seer Knowledge front.
“No. In case you haven’t noticed, I was having a drink with this lovely lady.”
“Even God had a day off,” you pointed out, voice sickly-sweet as you trailed a finger down the arm John had looped around your shoulders.
“God rested because he’d finished creating the world. John’s job is just heating up.”
Immediately, the exorcist’s brow furrowed, but he let the angel keep talking.
“There’s an old friend you can still help, and it’s even in your own backyard.”
You felt your face twist in confusion. “Aren’t you lot usually more cryptic than that?”
He didn’t deign to so much as look at you; those golden eyes of his stayed locked on John.
“I’ve only got one friend in town … if you can call him that, but my lady’s right. You getting used to breaking Daddy’s rules?”
Saying nothing, the angel just vanished.
“… Well that went better than I expected,” John muttered.
You pulled away from him slightly. “So when were you planning on warning me about the feathery threat to my existence?”
“Oh, don’t be like that, luv. I try not to think about the bastard as much as I can, to be honest. Besides,” he pulled you back to him, directing you to move onto his lap so that you were straddling it instead of the casual, reclined position from before, “you know I’d never let him hurt you. Right?”
You scoffed, trying to add levity to his suddenly self-conscious tone. “Since when do I need your help to defend myself?”
At that, he barked a laugh. “To, right you are.” The pair of you shared a brief, fiery kiss before he guided you to your feet. “Now, come on. Ritchie needs our help!”
“It’sRitchiethat needs us?” you found yourself asking while being dragged down the hall. “Oh, he’s gonna lovethis …” Not.
~
The taped lecture was painfully boring even from outside the lecture hall. Yawns forced their way out of your mouth every few seconds, it felt like. When the tape finally messed up and Ritchie ended the class, you (and probably every student inside) inwardly rejoiced.
Waiting outside hadn’t been your idea in the slightest. No, you’d wanted to sit with John so you could at least mock whatever lecture Ritchie would put on and have something to keep yourself occupied that wasn’t just listening and twiddling your thumbs. But then John had to go and make the far-too-valid argument that you and Ritchie had never gotten along, so he would probably bolt the second he caught sight of you.
Hence, outside.
While listening to John’s pointless question to dramatically announce his present was amusing, when the time came, you filed out with the students. Crowds were truly brilliant for going unnoticed, after all, and John already had Ritchie’s attention firmly locked on him.
The plan was theoretically simple. He’d probe his old friend for as much information as he could manage on the way to Ritchie’s office. Where you’d already be inside waiting so you could catch him off guard. Then, fingers crossed, the three of you could figure out exactly what this mysterious danger was.
You were already done snooping around the office (finding nothing, naturally) and were lounging on the couch when you heard Ritchie’s once-familiar voice saying, “We had a … a deal. I help you and–” He abruptly cut himself off when he saw you. “Oh, no. No, no, no.” His eyes started frantically darting between the pair of you.
John flopped down next to you, arm automatically falling behind your head.
“You swore. You promised. No supernatural stuff, no demons–”
“Hey!” you protested at the same time John announced, “Gary’s dead, Ritchie.”
Ritchie’s whole body froze, full dear-in-the-headlights. “D… dead?”
“I’m sorry to spring it on you like that, mate, but, uh, now I have it on good authority that something ill-natured is circling you like a pack of wolves, and I’m not just gonna sit there and wait for it to attack.”
As John spoke, Ritchie moved to sit behind his desk, face full of confusion and shock. “Why me?” he muttered. “Why her? Why did you bring her here if something bad was already after me?”
“Because dealing with me is a right side better than ending up in a shallow grave because of something worse.” Your eyes narrowed. “Or are you forgetting all the times I’ve saved your ass?”
John’s hand squeezed your shoulder.
“But that’s no answer to why me. I don’t do anything but work and go hom, all of which is sprinkled with a whole lotta sedatives!”
What about the data-mining?”
“I got sick of frying hard drives! I don’t do it anymore! I shut the program down.”
“All this doesn’t change the fact that something bad is coming, Ritchie,” you pointed out calmly.
“Looks to me like something bad is already here,” came his mocking reply. “Careful how you speak to my wife.”
“You divorced yearsago, John! And for good reason. She’s a demon! It ain’t natural, and you know it!”
“She’s part demon, Ritchie, and you’d do well to remember that.” John’s tone was sharp, almost like he was moments from calling hellfire to those talented fingertips of his. When you squeezed his thigh to ground him, he relaxed some. “Besides, my reasons for parting with her died that day in Newcastle.”
“I’m here to help, Ritchie,” you vowed seriously. The hostility needed to tone itself down and quickly.
“Just–” His phone ringing cut him off. Convenient.
Based on his face, the news on the other end was anything but good. Of course.
~
Telling that young girl about her friend dying was easily one of the most emotionally traumatizing things you’d born witness to. Fortunately, after that it was quite easy to convince her to come to the millhouse.
“Don’t worry,” John was saying. “All reflective surfaces here have protections on them.”
“Get some rest while we work this out, alright?” you suggested.
“I’m sorry about all this.”
You waved her off. “Bah! You’re much better to deal with than Ritchie even with the whole evil ghost thing.” You winked at her. “He kinda hates me, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Why …” she trailed off as she seemed to realize that the answer wasn’t any of her business.
“You just get some rest. I’ll wrangle the magicians.”
Youknewit was going too well. The other shoe was bound to drop, yet when it did you were still surprised and horrified in equal measure when she was sucked into that hellish dimension through her phoneof all things.
Immediately, John started pulling out the supplies he’d need to do the spell. It was a little hard to hear anything over the blood racing in your ears, but you knew him and Ritchie were arguing about going in. But then you got dragged into it.
“She’s got mind powers, right?” You jerked your head around to see that Ritchie was pointing at you. “Why can’t she do it?”
John’s jaw clenched as his eyes met yours. “Her mind is too volatile. It’s overwhelming even to trained people; if she goes in we might lose Lily.”
“He’s right. I’d probably burn her out along with Shaw if he tried to get hold of me. Finesse is what’s needed, and that’s something I can’t do.” You looked at Ritchie. “If things go wrong, I’ll come in and be the battering ram. You two could handle it since you’ve got practice and warning, but it has to be a last resort sort of thing.”
He looked like he wanted to complain more, but Ritchie just sighed. “Fine.”
~
It was torture, watching the pair of them just … sit there in the trance.
It was pure Hell when John’s hands started bleeding. Still you didn’t try to enter. Lily was still alive. You had to hold out hope.
Then Lily came out. You patted her shoulder comfortingly but said nothing.
And finally, John came out of it and you immediately dropped into his lap to kiss him silly in relief despite the blood that lingered on his hands without wounds. “Good to see you too, luv, but I need you ready to drag him out incase the stupid git decides to try and stay there.”
You glanced over at Ritchie’s body. “You got it.”
But in the end, it all turned out … fine. Except for the dead kids. You’d all have to live with that on your conscience, but the three of them were alive. You were just happy to have them safe.
And if you and John got deliciously, irresponsibly, and hopelesslydrunk after toasting Gary’s memory in the mirror … Well that was your own business.
And the business of that one little walk-in chapel in Vegas.
Synopsis : Your son, Jason, the fearsome Red Hood, got cursed somehow and…turned into a toddler. Shenanigans ensue.
Please. I’m very proud of the pun in the title. For once, I found the title instantly haha. Anyway, here’s a “bonus” story, sudden burst of inspiration, had to write it. I hope you’ll like it :) :
It was a calm afternoon, which was rare enough, in your household, for you to notice it.
When was the last time you and Bruce had time to relax like that ? Time to do nothing, and spend a lazy afternoon just the two of you ?
Too long ago to remember.
You’re running your hand through your husband’s hair, as his head is in your lap, and he’s in a half-sleep state, just content being near you, taking a well deserved rest. You were reading, quite enjoying your book, and soothed by Bruce’s warmth.
This was such a nice moment. Relaxing. Silent. A rare moment of stillness, which you appreciated all the better.
And then-
“PARENTS, THIS IS AN EMERGENCY !!”
Dick.
Dick just barged in, clearly panicked. And you understood instantly why, as you spot, settled in his arm…A small child ?! Wrapped in a, is that a hoodie ? You feel like you’ve seen that hoodie somewhere, but you don’t have time to look at it further as your eyes are attracted towards the kid.
A toddler. A little boy. No more than two. With big blue eyes, and the cutest tiny face you’ve ever seen. With a white streak in his hair you’d recognize anywhere.
************
“How did this happen ?!”
There were no doubt in yours, nor Bruce’s mind, that this was your Jason.
Same eyes, same hair, and he turned to you whenever you and Bruce said : “Jason”. So, either this was your son, or it was your son’s secret son, but you somehow doubted it. Sure, kids could look exactly like their parents, but to this extent ? He even had that little beauty mark under his ear…
This was Jason. You were sure of it.
You’d recognize your boy anywhere. Now, the question remained : what the hell happened ?
“I don’t know ! I went to his place to check on him, and I found him like this. It’s Jason. It’s definitely Jason. I found him asleep on the floor, in a pool of his clothes. Definitely too big now. But it’s him.”
“Yes, it seems like him. But, again, how ?”
“Honestly, I wouldn’t put past him actually pissing of some kind of magician or something. Last time I spoke to him, he said he had a lead on a possible metahuman who was doing some shady business, could be it.”
Could be, indeed. This was so odd. What were you going to do now ? There was no way you could-
Ah. He was waking up. He yawned (most adorable things you’ve seen in a long time), rubbed his eyes and theN.
Then he pointed at you, and said, smiling : “Mama”.
“He knows who you are, my love.”
Bruce said, matter of factly, his initial shock vanished as he was now studying the situation.
Jason turns to him then, and says : “Dada ?”
Evidently, there were some remnant of Jason in there, as he recognized both of them. But as soon as he turned to look at Dick, he started screaming and kicking, wanting to get away, and only calming down once he got into your arms.
What was this ? A reaction like little ducklings ? Recognizing the first people you saw as your parents ? Or some distant memories ?
The situation was getting more and more intriguing. But you were sure you’d all figure it all somehow.
None of you could know that Jason would be stuck in this state for a few months…
We need supplies
How to go buy a bunch of baby supplies without looking suspicious ?
Damn, it was annoying sometimes (often), to be so well known in your city. For sure someone would notice Bruce Wayne, no matter how he would disguise himself (ironic, isn’t it ? Everyone always recognized him in the streets, no matter what, yet nobody ever realized he was the Batman). And the same went for each member of the family.
Especially if you’d go buy baby supplies. Imagine the gossip the next day, in the paper ? You couldn’t have Jason’s condition known !
You were trying to figure something out, because you did need the supplies. You had to be discreet. Because-
“What about Uncle Clark ?”
Tim’s idea. Of course. And…OF COURSE.
Clark DID have a baby.
Jon.
Maybe he still had some of his stuffs ?
Also, nobody would bat an eye if they saw Clark Kent (who ?) buy diapers and whatnot. And then he could fly right to the Manor, he knew how to be discreet.
It was perfect !
************
You know how you recognize good friends ? They’re here in less than an hour when you need them. With everything you need, too.
Well. It did help that said friend was a metahuman with super-speed. But still.
Clark was there quickly, with clothes, diapers, a baby bed, formula. The perfect “a baby appeared in our life starter kit”.
“Someone gonna tell me what’s going on ?”
Yes, a true friend indeed. The kind of person who comes with “baby supplies” when you ask him to, because it’s an “emergency”, and he doesn’t even ask why up until he did it.
You quickly explained the situation, and after he laughs a little too much, he settles down and asks :
“So, what are you going to do ?”
“Still figuring that out. Have a few lead.”
Clark knows Bruce enough to know that the man isn’t going to tell him more about his plans, so he doesn’t push it. Instead, he turns to Jason, and smiles at him.
“Hey there buddy, how are you doing ?”
He reaches to ruffle his hair, but Jason slaps his hand away, and goes to hide behind his father, reaching up, asking to be picked up.
“He doesn’t like you.”
Bruce says, smirking, way too pleased about what just happened. You can’t help but roll your eyes at his childishness (which always seemed to get out when around Clark), as Superman says :
“But Jason loves me !”
“Adult Jason maybe, but baby Jason knows better.”
“What do you mean ? Hey, hey ! What do you mean ?!”
Bruce doesn’t answer, and just snicker, amused by his friend’s reaction. And you find the situation too funny to tell Clark that : Jason is simply a very shy child. He runs away from any person he doesn’t know, you noticed very quickly.
You could’ve told Clark that, and it would’ve settled thing. But it was too funny to witness THE Superman trying to get a one year old kid to like him by bribing him with a wide array of toys, yet failing each times. All while THE Batman kept mocking him and telling Jason that Clark was a “bad man”…
Oh. Oh this would be a memory to preciously keep in mind. What a sight.
************
Slowly, life went back to “normal”. Just, with a toddler Jason instead of an adult one. Which you weren’t sure was more calming, in the end.
Your other children quickly heard the news, and slowly but surely, a sort of routine started in Wayne Manor, in which all of you took care of the boy.
You knew he’d do the same for you.
With Damian
“Gah ?”
“Yes, indeed. Very good choice.”
Damian didn’t notice you, as you snuck up in the room him and Jason were in, and you just looked at the both of them. Your youngest son was such a good older brother, who would’ve thought ?
He was currently drawing with Jason. There was paint everywhere, and Alfred would probably not be very happy (although he actually didn’t mind cleaning this kind of mess). The questioning “gah” Jason gave Damian was apparently about whether he should use blue or not. Of course, Damian said he should. It’d go nicely with Jason’s adorable mess of a painting.
Who knew Damian was that good at baby talk ?
They were calmly drawing together, both laying on the floor. You noticed Damian was actually painting his “little” brother, while Jason…It was abstract, but his “older” brother influence was clearly there as the colors mixed nicely together.
Jason finished his masterpiece, as he held it up with his little hands and exclaimed : “Babaaaa” (his version of “tadaa”, surely).
“Very nicely done, Little Bird, very nicely done indeed.”
“Little bird”…oh, your heart was going to melt. This was Dick’s nickname for Jason (and all his little siblings really, although Jason was the first he called like that, and it was definitely happening more with him, simply because it annoyed him so much, and Dick LOVED to get on his siblings’ nerves).
You never thought Damian would use it one day, after all, you and Bruce never really talked about having more children. You had already quite a handful of them…And no, definitely not, having little Jason around DID NOT make your baby fever go wild.
“You’re very talented you know”, Damian says, patting his brother on the head. Jason seemed so pleased, so proud of himself. And then, then he let out the biggest yawn you’ve ever seen coming out of such a little mouth.
“Ah, it is nap time I see. Come on little bird, I’ll-“
As if it was the most natural thing in the world, Jason just snaked his way in Damian’s arms, and got comfortable. In just a few seconds, his eyes were closed, and he was fast asleep. Aaah, to be a toddler, capable of falling asleep anywhere in a matter of seconds. What a dream.
You thought Damian would stand up, and go to Jason’s room (where you installed a little baby bed,Jaso’ns actual bed being way too big…Bruce had it custom made for his son, which like, is not surprising to anyone). But instead, Damian sat up a little, rearranged Jason in his arms so the little boy would be more comfortable, and stayed still.
He wasn’t moving at all, his “baby” brother cradled in his arms. And here you were, as if hypnotized by the cuteness of the scene.
Your son still hadn’t notice you, and was looking intently at Jason. He brushed a few fingers on his chubby little baby cheek, and after a long silence during which you felt you were literally melting because this was so sweet, you heard Damian’s voice :
“You know, you used to do this for me. I don’t- I don’t really remember exactly, but I just feel it. You used to hold me just like that, when I was a toddler, and I just know you were one of the only person who were able to instantly soothe me. It’s a gut feeling. I know you were there.”
It doesn’t take long before you understand, and you find yourself chocking up.
Damian is talking about his own childhood, foggy memories of a lonely upbringing full of training, fear and harshness. Ras’ was not a tender man, and his grasp on his daughter was, at the time, too strong.
Damian did not grow up like most kid. Like any kid. And yet, amongst all the tough moments, there was one memory he seemed to be holding on…
Jason taking care of him.
You knew your son had been assigned to Damian’s protection. When he didn’t really have any memories of what happened to him, or of who he was. When Ras, out of the compassion he still had hidden deep in his heart, resurrected your boy after the Joker killed him, feeling guilty.
But Jason came back altered, the trauma of his death was too much. He couldn’t quite remember, and with reasons, Ras thought it was better to keep him with the Assassins instead of sending him back to you and Bruce. Of course, Ras being Ras, he took advantage of the fact your son was a well trained boy who could probably do his bidding…
And that’s how Jason became Damian’s protector (and an assassin for a while, but that was another story).
“You’re one of the first memory I have, Jason.”
Damian continues, as you look at them, feeling your heart filling and breaking at the same time.
“You took care of me, protected me from people who wanted to end the “Demon”’s legacy. You don’t really remember, I know. And I don’t either, I was too young. But I have glimpse of moments, furtive memories of it.”
You know Damian would never talk about this to Jason if he hadn’t been turned into a toddler. Both Damian and Jason had trouble expressing their feelings (can you say : “like father, like son” ??).
But it felt like Damian had waited a long time to finally get this off of his chest. To finally speak his mind about it.
He remembers Jason. He remembers how he took care of him, how he was there when nobody else was. He remembers.
“I’ll protect you, Jason. I will. Just like you did for me. I’ll protect you.”
The flood gate was now opened, tears running freely on your cheeks. You discreetly left as Damian was slowly swaying his brother from side to side, and the little boy drifted off to sleep, a sleep full of pleasant dreams as he knew…He knew, he was safe in Damian’s arms.
He was safe.
Not him !!
Zatanna was busy, but she promised to come by as soon as she could, which could take months, given her schedule.
“Bruce, I’m afraid we don’t have a choice.”
“No no, we do. There’s always a choice. And other options.”
“Do you really know that many people with magical powers ?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“Ok, fine. But he’s the one we’re sure is going to be available.”
“I’d rather call Black Adam than him.”
“Bruce…”
Silence. He doesn’t look at you, turning away, clearly pretending to type something on the Batcomputer.
“Bruuuuuuce.”
Yup, he’s definitely ignoring you now.
“Are you sulking, my Broosh ?”
He turns around quickly, and says, a little too intensely :
“I am NOT sulking ! Why would I sulk ? There’s absolutely no reason whatsoever I would. I don’t sulkanyway.”
“You do. Sometimes. You definitely always sulk when we talk about him.”
He glares at you (or at least, he tries, to you, he just looks like an adorable grumpy bear), and you hold his eyes. After a while, seeing you’re not about to back down, he sighs and says : “Fine. Call him.”
Constantine’s Help
“When I received your call, I knew it meant you got yourself into some shingles. But I didn’t expect that.”
John Constantine was standing in front of you and Bruce, and stared at Jason, who was in his father’s arms.
Jason. Jason Todd. The Red Hood. Batman’s son. That tall jacked “boy” who always seemed like he could snap anyone like a twig if he wanted to (and honestly, John wouldn’t put “snapping people like twigs” passed that “kid”).
Jason grew up to be such an imposing man, that it was quite a surprise to see him…Like that.
John thought he couldn’t be more than two years old. Probably one and a half (John had a knack at guessing people’s age, it was…useful for his craft).
He quickly gave his diagnostic of the situation :
“Well, he’s been turned into a toddler.”
“…”
“…”
Silence. And then, Bruce, will all the sarcasm he could muster, says :
“…Thanks. We didn’t notice.”
John smiles, always happy to get on Batman’s nerves. He adds :
“Cooking up such a spell requires quite a bit of power. It probably left a trace where it happened. If you show me the place, I think I can figure out a way to retrace it, recreate it, and therefor, hopefully, reverse it. It might take some times, of course.”
“Of course. Thanks anyway for coming.”
“Oh no worries beautiful, for you, I’d always co-”
“Ok thank you, bye now.”
You and John exchanged an amused smile, it was always fun to make Bruce jealous (although he was adamant he never felt jealousy. What a load of cr-). He was now quite literally pushing Constantine out of the house, because he knew the warlock was about to flirt with you.
On purpose. Just to piss him off.
But also, Bruce knew you and John Constantine had a quick fling in the past, and he knew John himself. No way he was about to let him flirt with you. The man had quite a reputation…Nuhu.
Making sure to have a promise from him to work on your son’s case, Bruce then chased him out of the house. Later, he turned to you and said :
“Black Adam would’ve seriously been better.”
With Bruce
“No, Jason. Noo. Oh my god please boy, stop touching all the button. No, JA-”
The boy almost pressed quite a dangerous button, “autodestruction” and all that. And Bruce had enough. He put him on the floor and-
“BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH !!”
Big sad cries. Jason was just balling his eyes out now, and Bruce knew he wouldn’t stop up until he would pick him up again.
You knew he wasn’t going to resist. You gave him 10 seconds max. And ah, you overestimated him. 4 seconds later, Jason was back in his arms, trying to reach every single buttons possible, getting frustrated because Bruce kept stoping him from doing so.
Your husband turned to you, sighing deeply, and you couldn’t help but laugh.
************
He ended up building a “sensory box” for him. Jason always wanted to be held, for some reasons, and disliked being anywhere else but in someone’s arms. The problem was, when he was in Bruce’s, he kept wanting to touch everything on the bat computer.
Of course, for a child, it was quite an attractive thing to touch.
And so, after a few researches, Bruce found out that kids Jason’s age had a lot of “sensory experiences”, and couldn’t help but just touch everything (the same way babies always put stuffs in their mouth).
It didn’t take him long to build a little box, with a bunch of buttons on it, some making noise, some just nice to the touch. It occupied the boy nicely.
Jason would giggle away, playing with his box, and it made Bruce’s heart full, to hear that little laugh.
One night, as he thought you fell asleep in your desk chair (it happened often, although this time, you were just resting a bit), Bruce turned to his son and asked :
“Not tired yet champ ? Should be time for a nap, no ?”
The boy just looked up at him, smiling widely, clearly not tired. He always smiled when looking at Bruce. Of that smile that-
That-
That Bruce hadn’t seen in years.
Not since-
Since-
He felt a tear on his cheek.
“I’m sorry Jason, I’m so sorry..;”
It was like he felt something break in him. Something he held on for so long. Looking at that little boy, who bore the smile of the son he lost all those years ago.
Jason still hadn’t smile like that again yet. You knew it would happen some day. That he would finally heal. But it didn’t happen yet.
And the fact that as a child, innocent and trauma free, that smile came to him so easily…It awoke all of Bruce’s guilt. All of his heartbreak.
Bruce’s sadness distressed the boy.
“ ’Ou ok ? Ok dada, ok ?”
“You ok ?” he was asking. Which made Bruce’s emotions surge even more. Jason as always been such a nice kid. He didn’t deserve what happened to him.
He didn’t deserve it. If only he never met him..
Jason was standing in Bruce’s lap now, on tippy toes, barely reaching his father’s face and…slowly comforting him.
That was your Jason.
Even as a small child, always so compassionate, sweet, and caring.
“No cwy, no cwy, all ok.” He said, patting his father’s cheek, and smiling, hoping he would console his father.
Yes. Jason has always been such a good person.
Bruce knew he wasn’t going to be able to stop his emotions, and so as to not further distress his son, he just hugged him tight. Close to his heart. And his warmth and little giggles were such a nice comfort…
Nightmares
When John was here, he said that it was possible that he had some remnant of memories of who he was. Which was probably why he called you and Bruce “mama” and “dada” right away.
But it was also probably why at night, when he was all alone in his bedroom, he would have horrendous nightmares and scream his lungs out.
You learned to recognize his cries, over the months. Sometimes, he was hungry, sometimes, he demanded attention, sometimes, he wanted this or that…His cries during the night were haunting.
There was no doubt in your mind, neither in Bruce’s, that he had recurring nightmares. And you didn’t have to think much about it to know what those were.
You didn’t want to think about it. You didn’t need to. As long as you were there, when he woke up, panicked…
************
Panicked.
Exactly the word that would describe the first time it happened, on the first night Jason came to the Manor, turned into a young child.
Screams. Of a deep seated fear.
It was horrible, to hear such a sound knowing it was your “baby” who was currently very afraid.
Both you and Bruce rushed to him. He was just coming back from patrol when Jason started to wail.
You barge in his bedroom, and he’s crying. Big salty tears running down his face, crying so much it’s hard to breath.
Bruce is faster than you, and he reaches for his son. Jason’s naturally put his arms up, definitely wanting to be picked up.
It took a good ten minutes before the boy calmed down, exhausted from crying, slowly falling back asleep in his father’s arms.
Bruce didn’t leave Jason’s bedroom that night, and you didn’t either. You all cuddle up in his actual bed. The double bed he usually use when he crash at the Manor.
Jason falls asleep in the middle of you and Bruce, his tiny little hands clutching your fingers. Yours, and your husband’s, each arm on each side of him.
You don’t dare to move, afraid he’ll wake up. And in the night, when Bruce moves a little too much in his sleep and Jason’s hand sleep away from his finger, the boy wakes up, and starts to panic as he thinks he’s alone, before being soothed back to sleep by his father, who always had a light sleep, and woke up the instant he heard the smallest of whimper.
************
Each night. Each night he wakes up at least once, screaming, crying, afraid. Afraid of what ? You can only guess.
John did warn you about this. During his sleep, he’s most likely to remember his past life.
You can only assume than when he’s all alone in his bed, he has horrible nightmares. But when you sleep with him, or when he’s asleep with Bruce or his siblings, the way he clutches at you, the way he peacefully sleeps…it feels like he remembers the good time.
He seemed terrified of the dark. Understandably so, when you knew his history.
Poor baby, always so afraid to be all alone.
With Tim
“Um, was spaghetti really the best idea, Tim ?”
You came in the room just as Bernard was asking this question to your son, and. Oh. Oh the carnage. (A/N : For those who don’t/didn’t follow more recent comics and such, Bernard is a childhood school friend of Tim with whom he sort of lost contact after he got adopted by Bruce, and they recently reconnected and are now dating J)
“It’s his favorite food ! I mean, adult him. I swear once, I saw him only spaghetti for two weeks straight, with different sauces every time. But his favorite is bolognese. I guess…It wasn’t the best idea here.”
Jason is COVERED with pasta. His entire face is red, tiny pieces of meat stuck to his cheeks. The little fork Tim gave him is discarded on the floor, and the boy is eating with his hands.
Handful of pasta, out of which very few actually reach his mouth, and even less enter it. Most of it is just splayed all over his face.
“I see babysitting is going well.” you say, amused.
Bernard stands up quickly, as if you’re his boss or something. You smile at him, and say : “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you boys. Having fun ?”
Tim sighs, knowing you’re mocking him a bit. But Bernard is still a little tense. After all, he’s been introduced into the family not very long ago. Tim finally felt confident enough to introduce him to you guys, and of course he was met with a warm welcomed. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t still a little nervous in your presence.
Especially since you were THE (Y/N) Wayne. And oh god, he could never relax around Bruce (which honestly was your husband’s fault, he was always suspicious of his children’s boyfriends/girlfriends at first, and still considered Tim, one of his youngest, like his baby bird).
“Mama !” Jason said excitedly, and then he took another handful of pasta, and threw it on Tim. You could see he didn’t do it on purpose. That he was just SO excited his body didn’t quite respond with the proper coordination.
Tim turned to you, blasé.
You and Bernard burst out into laughter, this was quite the scene.
Jason giggled, and Tim couldn’t help but smile. Who would’ve thought that his brother could be so adorable ? Adult Jason was quite different.
Still adored his brother though. Jason often bragged about how smart Tim was, as if him himself wasn’t (which wasn’t true, Jason was extremely intelligent, he just had a massive imposter syndrome). And Tim was Jason’s first little brother, he doted over him all the time.
Of course, Jason was close from Damian too, but with Tim, it was something different.
Because Tim “replaced” Jason. In a way. He was the one which brought some light back in Bruce’s heart. The one that helped you start to heal from the wound Jason’s death gave you.
Jason thought he had to hate Tim, at first. Because he was “replacing” him. But he quickly realized he couldn’t do that.
Because Tim was Tim.
And he was himself.
Jason had never been a hateful person. So sure, he was angry at his father, angry at the world for how unfair he was treated. But he couldn’t be angry to someone who had nothing to do with it.
Plus, when Tim came in, he was so adorable, and SUCH a fanboy. How could Jason not instantly adopt him as his brother ?
“Adorable”. That’s what Tim was thinking about baby Jason now.
Funny, how life could go full circle like that, sometimes, right ?
“Pabgeti !” Jason yelled, happy, showing his food (that once again was more all over his face than anywhere else). And then he pointed at Tim, and repeated : “Pabgeti !”
You smiled, and said : “Tim made you some spaghetti ? He’s nice isn’t he ?”
Jason nod his little head, and smiled widely at Tim and-
Any trace of annoyance, or anything else, vanished. Ah. Funny. Even as a baby, Jason was always there to make sure Tim felt home.
************
Sat down in the sofa in his room (with the door open, Bruce’s rules…he was so old school), Tim and Bernard were holding hands as they looked at Jason who was playing on the floor in front of them.
The little boy turned around, saw the linked hands, and creased his eyebrows. He crawled on all four towards the sofa, managed to get on his feet and he separated both hands.
“What, not you too Jason.”
But the little boy would have none of it. He refused to let Bernard get back closer to his brother, and kept glaring at him, as if afraid he was going to still Tim away.
It was very cute, to be honest. And although Tim could’ve been annoyed, he actually felt quite happy and warm.
First steps
Jason had simply refused to walk so far.
So, nothing prepared you nor Bruce to witness what was about to happen.
It had been a month since Jason turned into a toddler. John did say he never heard of such a spell, and would have to do some thorough research (although Bruce suspected him to take his time, just because he thought the situation was funny, and because he loved to spite him).
He crawled everywhere, for sure. It was a nightmare, actually. He truly only listened to you and Alfred, and would way too many time try to escape his siblings’ surveillance.
He hid in a basket once, fell asleep in it, as they all looked for him, panicked.
Yes, he crawled, and got into tiny spaces where it was hard to get to him…But he never walked.
Until now.
You were laying leisurely on the couch, legs across your husbands lap, looking at your son playing on the floor, thinking about how weird your life was sometimes.
One of your boy turning back into a toddler. How odd really.
Jason was sitting on the floor, playing with some toys. And then, he got on all four, and your heart beamed as you noticed Bruce’s body tense. He was ready to get his son if need be (for real, that kid really managed to get himself stuck in the strangest places).
But Jason didn’t move. Instead, he pushed with his little arms and…
He was on his feet.
Standing. Standing ! Albeit his legs were shaky and it felt he would fall back on his butt any seconds, he was standing !
He took one step, and was falling forward wh-
You felt your legs being pushed aside. Not violently or anything, Bruce knew how to be delicate.
You felt it, and then somehow, your husband was near your son, catching him before he hit the ground. Damn. You forgot sometimes that he had insane reflexes.
Jason was giggling now, evidently very pleased with himself that he managed to stand up. He looked at Bruce, smiling widely, and started to blabber in baby talk. Non-stop.
Bruce chuckled. An affectionate and sweet chuckle. And he said :
“Yes yes, very impressive. You’re so strong. You’re so strong, little one. Can you do it again ?”
Bruce sad the boy back on the floor. Jason smiled, looked at him again, said :
“Dada ! Babubya !” (whatever it meant)
And he stood up once again. Took one step, two, once again his father’s arms caught him before he could fall.
“Aaaah baba baba !” Jason exclaimed, very proud of himself.
“You did so good !”
Bruce was as excited as his son, and it was the cutest thing to witness. Leading the life you lead, you never got to have a baby in the house before then…So this was how it felt, to saw them take their first steps.
This time, Jason made four steps before crashing in his dad’s arms (which you suspected he did on purpose, because he thought it was fun).
By the end of the day, he could walk on his own and on quite a distance. When Damian came home from school, he was greeted by an extremely proud little Jason, who walked towards him, exclaiming :
“DamDam wak !” (which you translated to something along the lines of : “Damian I can walk”).
Oh. The feels.
With Dick
Dick found Jason first. He hadn’t heard a word of his brother the entire day, and got worried. Which yes, for many it’s ridiculous but…
Dick cannot help it. He HAS to have at least a text from his family members every 24 hours, or he freaks out. And, could you blame him, with the life you lead ?
The only exceptions were if you warned him first. “Hey, I won’t be there for the next four days, don’t worry before the fifth one haha !” then he wouldn’t insist. And all of you knew by then, that you “needed” to give him a head’s up whenever you wouldn’t be reachable.
And to be honest, if it could reassure your son, you’d definitely go the extra mile. Every member of your family would.
So when Jason didn’t warn him about not being available, and didn’t answer his texts and calls, Dick panicked.
He knew he shouldn’t, that his brother was probably all right. But he couldn’t help it, he had to quickly check.
He went to where Jason’s phone pinpointed (of course he put trackers in everyone’s phones. After all, Bruce was his teacher, right ?), one of his hideout, on the outskirt of Gotham.
He came in through a window, as usual, and…
That where he found a baby. A baby fast asleep, in a pool of what he knew were Jason’s clothes.
A baby that, evidently…was Jason ??
************
“Do you think he remembers us ? Or who he is ?” Dick asks you, looking at his little brother who’s happy to be held in your arms.
“I’m not sure. He did call me mama, and is calling Bruce dada. I don’t know if it’s just natural, or if he has some remnants of memories. Because clearly, he’s “just” a baby, and not Jason stuck in a baby’s body. I mean. Itis Jason. But an actual baby version of him. Know what I mean ?”
“Yes, I do.”
There’s a small silence, before Dick has an idea :
“Ok well, let’s see if he does sort of remember but can’t quite voice it. Hey little man, I’m-”
“NO !” Little Jason says, slapping Dick right in the face and pushing him away.
“Ok, it’s definitely Jason…Except, like him when he first came here. He used to downright hate me haha.”
“He didn’t hate you…”
“He kind of did.”
“No, he didn’t. He just- He just wanted to show everyone he could be just like you, if not better. He wanted recognition.”
“Which I…did not give him.”
Regret was obvious in Dick’s voice, and it broke your heart. For once, you weren’t sure what to say. Because it was kind of true, that at first, Dick wasn’t the nicest towards Jason. Things didn’t go as smoothly as you wished.
But neither you nor Jason or Bruce ever blamed Dick for it. It was a time in which he was lost, and always so angry. He left the manor because of it.
Long story short, Dick hadn’t always been the best brother. Jason’s death profoundly changed him…
Now, he couldn’t imagine his life without his siblings. And he could definitely not imagine not being the oldest one.
It actually hurt a bit, Jason’s rejection. The boy was now hiding his face in the crook of your neck, clearly not wanting to be held by Dick.
Ah, but your son had an idea.
“Coming back in a sec.”
He disappears for a bit, and comes back indeed just a few minutes later with a- Ah. Yes. Of course.
He has a cookie in hand. Jason’s weakness. He’s never been able to resist a cookie, especially not those baked by Alfred, like he one Dick was holding. The boy looks curiously at him, and then at the cookie, obviously interested.
Dick breaks it in smaller pieces, and hand it to him, Jason immediately proceeded to suckle on it and-
That was it really. Dick managed to get him in his arms, and from then and on, Jason never rejected him again.
“Bribing him with cookies always worked.”
“Um, excuse me, bribing ? Why did you need to bribe him before ?”
“Oops haha.”
And then he was gone, escaping your question by quickly leaving the room. You shake your head, aaah, those boys.
************
Jason started to seek Dick, now. Whether it was because he wanted more cookies, or to see his brother, nobody could quite say…
DADA !
Baby Jason adored Bruce.
Adult Jason too, though he would never admit it. Not anymore. Not after what happened to him…
But he did. Adore his father. That’s probably why he found it so hard to forgive him for not killing the Joker after what he did to him. Ah, but this was another story. For now, Jason as a one year old was an absolute Bruce fanboy.
He loved you too, it was obvious. He came to you whenever he wanted comfort, or cuddles, or anything of the like. You were his mama, and at that age, he would choose you over anybody else.
But, Bruce ?
“DADA !!”
Jason would exclaim whenever he saw him in the evening, when your husband would come home from work. And then he’d do his little toddler run towards him, and Bruce would catch him in his arms.
So heartwarming.
You took time off of work, you were pretty independent anyway so nobody really minded. You took time off of work, so you could help Alfred with Jason. You saw that little boy all day.
But Bruce ?
Ah Bruce. He still had to work. The responsibilities of owning such large enterprises made it impossible to take more than a day or two off. So he would see your son only in the morning, and evening before bed time.
It was enough, though.
“DADA !!”
Jason would yell excitedly, running to him.
Bruce found himself waiting for this moment with great anticipation. Your son would melt anyone’s heart, with his cute little face, big blue eyes, dark hair and that infamous streak of white…He was such a cute toddler.
But Bruce ?
Ah, Bruce’s heart had always been soft for his family, unbeknownst to many. How could he resist that child ?
“DADA !!”
Running little feet on the floor. Giggles as he was lifted off of it. And then he’d put his hands on his father’s cheeks, and just…smile.
Of that recognizable and pure “Jason smile” he used to always have before-
What if Jason couldn’t be turned back into an adult ? Was that such a bad thing ?
He had another chance right now.
Bruce had another chance. Another shot at not screwing up. At keeping him far from this “Batman” business.
Another chance…
But was this really your, or Bruce’s decision to make ?
No. No it wasn’t.
“DADA !!”
Run. Catch. Hug.
A shame, that you both knew this was but a chimera which had to end one day.
With Alfred
You almost missed it. But as often in your life, fate made it so you managed to make it just in time.
A few minutes before or after, and you wouldn’t have seen it. Because for sure, if he had seen you, he wouldn’t have done it. And if you came just a little later, you simply would’ve never had any idea it happened.
Here they were.
Baby Jason laying in Alfred’s arms, as the butler sat in a comfortable arm chair, in the library.
“Puff the magic dragon lived by the sea, And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee Little Jackie Paper loved that rascal Puff And brought him strings and sealing wax and other fancy stuff Oh, Together they would travel on a boat with billowed sail”
Singing.
Alfred was singing to him.
And Jason was utterly enthralled by the song, his big blue eyes staring at his “grandfather”. He was holding one of the butler’s hand with both of his, tightly. And you were sure your son didn’t even notice how much he clutched at the old man’s hand.
Neither of them noticed you, standing there, looking through the crack of the half-opened door.
“Jackie kept a lookout perched on Puff’s gigantic tail Noble kings and princes would bow whene'er they came Pirate ships would lower their flags when Puff roared out his name”
Captivated, Jason let Alfred caress his little head with his free hand, not realizing what he was doing.
Putting him to sleep, surely.
“Oh, Puff the magic dragon lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee Puff the magic dragon lived by the sea A dragon lives forever, but not so little boys Painted wings and giant’s rings make way for other toys One gray night it happened, Jackie Paper came no more”
Oh my God. This song was actually incredibly sad. But Alfred’s soft voice interpreted it so perfectly, that it was beyond soothing at the same time.
Baby Jason didn’t really understand the lyrics anyway, he just seemed to find the song beautiful. It was made obvious by how his eyes got a little misty.
The boy was moved, and it was truly magical. Such a young mind, touched by all the love poured into this song by his grandfather.
“And Puff, that mighty dragon, he ceased his fearless roar His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane Without his lifelong friend, Puff could not be brave”
The song reminded you of Jason and Bruce too much. You felt like crying, and you didn’t hold the tears back when they started to fell.
It was a bittersweet feeling. Sadness because of all the hardship they both went through, but happiness because they managed to overcome them.
Bittersweet.
Because their strong bond, their father/son love, was so important to both of them, that it became the source of so many conflicts and pain.
“So Puff, that mighty dragon, sadly slipped into his cave Oh, Puff the magic dragon lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee”
“Sadly slipped into his cave”, was this song specifically written for your Bruce or what ? Yes. Yes it fitted Bruce and Jason’s story so well.
It made you choke with emotions.
“He used to sing that to me when I was a child.”
You didn’t hear him come in, in fact, you felt his arms wrap around your waist before he even made a sound.
Your Broosh. And his warmth is so comforting.
In the library, Alfred starts singing the song again, after Jason was babbling in baby talk, clearly asking for more. Ah, and the old butler was never able to resist any of those kids.
“What is it ? The song.”
“Puff the Magic Dragon, by Peter Paul and Mary. It used to be my favorite song. I think it still is…” (A/N : I highly recommend listening to it once, just to get the feel…I love that song)
You both listen to Alfred sing to Jason. The boy is clearly in love with that song, too. Bruce whispers :
“It used to soothe me, no matter what. As a baby, at least according to my parents. And I’d only want Alfred to sing it, nobody else. Not even my mother or father. When they died he-”
“Oh, Puff the magic dragon lived by the sea And frolicked in the autumn mist in a land called Honah Lee”
“He used to sing it every single night. And it always helped me to fall asleep, even when I thought I wasn’t going to be able to. I love that song.”
“Yes, yes I think- I think I do too.”
You and Bruce stayed there for a while. Holding onto each other for comfort. Listening to that lovely song, while Jason was slowly falling asleep, a smile on his lips.
Trouble and Jealousy
Jason wasn’t even two, in that state, yet he was already quite a smart boy.
Everyone always thought Tim was the brain of this little cluster of siblings, and although often they weren’t wrong, all of your children were intelligent, and great strategist.
And evidently, it showed in young Jason right now.
He quickly found he had a knack to get out of trouble. He just had to look at people with cute eyes, and boom. It was done.
Something his siblings weren’t too fan of, because it worked way too well on their mom ! And ever since Jason was turned into a toddler, said mom, you, got her attention a little too focused on him !
The kids were rarely jealous of each other, especially because you and Bruce always found time for each and everyone of them. There were NO favorites, in the Wayne household.
But a toddler demanded much more attention than a, say, 8 years old child. And definitely more than an adult.
Oddly enough, Damian didn’t mind too much. He took his big brother role very seriously, and had a very : “Jason (as a baby at least) can do no wrong” kind of mindset. Even if it was obvious the boy did something he wasn’t supposed to, Damian would defend him, and fight anyone who wouldn’t leave it alone. Which Jason noticed quickly.
Running to his mom or to Damian became a habit, when he caused…Utter chaos. Honestly, there was no other words.
He was a very energetic boy, and although he was very sweet, obedient and nice, it seemed he always came up with the worst of ideas !
Which is what Tim discovered, as he came in the kitchen and found his little brother devouring cookies, sat in the middle of SO MUCH FLOUR !
“Jason, what did you do ??”
Jason looked at him, and giggled. He giggled, the little devil ! Tim went to him, picked him up, and was about to scold him a little (as he should) when you entered the kitchen.
“Oh. My. God. What happened ?!”
Tim was of course about to say Jason somehow got on the counters and such, but the little boy in his arms, after looking at him, a mischievous look in his eyes…started crying.
Big cries that Tim knew were fake. Oh, the crocodile tears !
But it worked on you. It worked really well indeed.
You went to him, took him into your arms, patting his back to comfort him, holding him close.
“Shush shush, it’s ok baby, it’s ok. Tim, please can you clean the mess ?”
And then you left, consoling little Jason…Little Jason who wasn’t sad at all ! He was still making crying sound, but Tim swore he saw a smile on his face as he looked at him and their eyes crossed when their mother left the room !
************
Dick was easily jealous, if you gave more attention to another of your kid. After all, he had been a lonely child for quite some years before Jason came in. He was used, for so long, to be the sole receiver of your attention (fighting for it with Bruce, though).
Even as an adult, when he came to see you, you’d make sure to have time for him. You saw less of each other since he moved to Bludhäven, so when he came by, you dropped everything to spend time with him.
Dick LOVED it. Maybe he had always been a bit of an attention seeker, but you couldn’t blame him. He had been an only child for years, even before he met you and Bruce. Old habits die hard.
So recently, when, whenever he came by, you would take care of Jason, he couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.
He hated to feel jealous of his siblings. He thought he grew out of that. Most of his conflicts with Jason, years ago, when the boy first came in, were born from Dick being jealous and thinking Bruce replaced him without a second thought (very wrong).
Also, Jason was currently a toddler. Of course he’d have more attention.
Didn’t mean Dick didn’t feel jealous though. Sigh. Damn.
But then-
Then whenever Jason saw his oldest brother, he would jump on his feet and run to him, and Dick felt like he was the most important person on the planet because of how the boy looked at him.
He would never admit it now, but Jason had always greatly admired Dick. He was his model. His hero.
Seemed like things never changed, eh.
Ah. Well, Jason always got away with almost everything, with Dick. Some things will never change indeed, no matter the age.
And just like that, any jealous feeling vanished.
With Cassandra
Jason was mesmerized by Cass.
Whenever he would start to cry, or feel cranky, she’d dance for him.
Ballet.
He loved it.
He would instantly stop crying, and just stare, utterly captivated, entranced. And then when she’d be done, he’d smile, widely, and raise his arms to make her understand he wants her to pick him up.
And she would, of course.
Cass and Jason never spoke a word, never made a sound. They seemed perfectly content in just being with each other.
Often, Jason would look for his “big” sister, and just sit with her, looking at whatever she’s doing. Even if, say, she read a book with no picture. He’d just look at the words, and at his sister, perfectly content.
Tim quickly renamed Cass “The Baby soother”.
Jason could be a little destructive, as a toddler. He broke way too many vase, and the more people (that weren’t his mom or Damian) told him “no”, the more he wanted to do it.
Yet Cass would come in, and it’s like she knew the button to turn him off. Even if in the middle of a tantrum, she’d just dance, and Jason would calm down.
It was magic, really.
Jason and Cass had both very strong childhood trauma. It seemed to please her that her brother’s bad experience had now been erased.
“Can’t we keep him like that ?”
She once asked. You answered : “I wish. But it’s not our decision…”
You couldn’t possibly decide for your son like that. You couldn’t, for selfish reasons, decide to keep him as a baby, letting him grow up differently. You couldn’t.
“I know..”
She said sadly. Seeing her sad made Jason sad, and the boy was about to cry when-
His favorite thing. She started dancing for him. This time picking him up to dance with him.
Because she was going to take every chance she got to make her brother’s “new” childhood the most memorable, calming, and warm possible.
Jason Todd
Finally, after three whole months, Constantine came back.
With good news.
“I found a way to reverse it, but it might be a little long.”
And long it was indeed. With the help of Bruce, it took him the entire day to perform the ritual that would give Jason his adult body back (and mind, hopefully…John wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t about to tell that to any of you. Oops).
It worked.
It worked.
Jason was there, actually Jason. And according to John, there would be no permanent damage. He managed to bring both body and spirit back.
He warned them he would sleep for a while, the shock of the transformation being exhausting.
Jason slept the entire day, when he woke up, he was groggy and still tired, his first words being :
“Mom.”
Of course, because he saw you first.
“Dad.”
Bruce felt a pang in his chest. Jason’s first instinct was to call for himtoo.
“…The FUCK happened ?!”
And your Jason was back to his normal self, for better and for worst. You wouldn’t have it any other way. As you told him the story of the past few months, you realized that you would never forget the memory of Jason as a baby, and how sweet that kid has (and will) always be(en).
And when he says : “The last thing I remember is being with that girl, oh I forgot her name now. Anyway I was with her, because I suspected she was a metahuman and wanted to make sure, but she didn’t say anything. Then she was all like : “well if you’re going to act like a child, then you might as well be one” and…And that’s it, that’s all I remember.”, you all bursted out into laughter.
“You might as well be one” indeed. Of course, Jason would piss of a magician capable of transforming people.
Years later, you’d learn said girl was a disciple of Klarion, and everything finally made sense.
I want to be an older brother
Damian started to understand, those months. The feeling you get, as an older brother. The intense need to protect your younger sibling, to teach them things, to be there for him.
And looking back on his life since he joined you and Bruce at Wayne Manor ? All his older brothers and sister did exactly that for him.
Jason, always did that for him. Ever since he was a baby. And Damian ? He wanted to be that for someone too.
“Being an older brother is pretty fun…”
Damian told you, not long after Jason turned back into his adult form.
And you could see he wished he wasn’t the youngest one, for once. Damian definitely enjoyed his junior status, he knew he could get away with a lot of things with his siblings and parents (funny enough, Jason was the softest one who would let him get away with stuffs that honestly weren’t too good), but having a toddler around seemed to make him want to be an older brother…How funny, how destiny works.
You weren’t going to lie. It was nice, to have such a small kid home. You and Bruce never got to raise a child from birth, for obvious reasons. Not that you regretted anything, or the life you lead until then. It was just…Nice, to have a little kiddo around.
Funny, how things work.
Was it fate, that made it so you had a certain news not long after that adventure with Jason being turned into a toddler by a wizard he offended ?
Fate, that made Damian’s wish a possibility. Fate, that made it so you discovered that you were actually…
Pregnant.
To be continue ?
________________________________________________
If you thought this was another excuse for me to write more toddler with Bruce and Batmom…then you were right haha. I’ve been in a mood my friends, and I love writing babies. Jason as a “lil lad” who has (almost) a chance at a good childhood makes my heart warm, but it can’t happen so next best thing ? Wizardry. Haha. I almost want to write a “turned toddler” story for each batsiblings hehe.
Hope you enjoyed ! As per usual comments and reblogs are very welcomed :)
PS : I tweaked a little Jason’s story with the Al’Ghuls after he got resurrected, just because…I wanted to haha. So, Damian’s part is heavily inspired by actual canon stories, but maybe, JUST MAYBE, I made it so Jason and Damian’s relationship was stronger that it is portrayed to be, just because, again, I can. And I love that headcanon.
